I 


li 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Mr 

/ 


AFXT  NA  OMT  -Pajre  *». 


fS  Him 


BY  MARGARET  E.  WILMER. 


NEW  YORK: 

OP1    fTLTBT.ICATIOTST,  R.  C.  -A.., 
34    "Vesey    Street. 

1871. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1371, 

BY  WILLIAM  FERRIS,  AGKNT. 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


flOSPORD  A  FON«,  Prtotsa, 
66  C«d*r  Street,  X.  T. 


FZ7 


PREFACE. 


£2     THE  folio-wing  narrative  is  designed  to  teach  a  two- 
•*•  fold  lesson: — First,  it  illustrates  the  fact  that,  withowt 
a  living  and  developed  Christianity,   a  person  may 
W    possess  cultivation  of  intellect,  polish  of  manners,  and 
{^  every  other  pleasing  and  desirable  attainment,  and  yet 
'•    utterly  fail  in  securing  true  peace  of  mind  and  happi- 
ness.    His  life  may  be  as  useless  to  his  fellow-beings 
^    as  it  is  unsatisfacto: y  to  himself.      He  will  have  no 
^*L  power  to  exert  over  others  any  real  or  personal  inilu- 
W  ence  for  good.      At  the  same  time,  it  shows  that  the 
§   humblest  and  most  ignorant  in  worldly  things,  if  but 
possessed  of  a  true  faith  in  Christ,  may  be  endowed 
with  a  heavenly  visdom,  and  a  power  from  on  high, 

8*    which  shall  make  them  "  mighty  in  word  and  deed." 
In  the  second  place,  it  serves  to  show  the  importance  of 
^    the  Sunday  School,  as  an  agent  for  the  diffusion  of 
O    Christianity  and  civilization  among  the  rudest,  and  a 
means  not  only  of  enlisting  the  children  upon  the  Bide 
I*    of  gospel  truth,  but  also  of  teaching,  through  those 
tj    children,  the  hearts  of  grown  people  who  often  resist 
<    the  efforts  made  in  other  ways  to  convince  them  of  the 
perilous  state  of  their  souls,  and  to  win  them  over  to 
Christ. 

(3) 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter.  Page. 

I.  The  Shipwreck   7 

II.  New  Lives  of  Marianna  and  her  Grandfather    21 

III.  How  One  was  made  happy,  and  another  made 

himself  wretched 35 

IV.  A  Stranger  introduced,  and  how  he  got.into 

Trouble 51 

V.  Hugh's   Story. — Marianna  is  sent  with  an 

unpleasant  Message 73 

VI.  Marianna  obeys  her  Grandfather's  Commands. 
— Lieutenant  Ferrand  makes  a  terrible 
Mistake. — Conversation  between  Hugh 

and  Marianna 91 

VII.  Lieutenant  Ferrand  discovers  his  Mistake. — 
He  visits  Von  Ulden's  Island. — Hugh 

leaves  the  Wrecker  Settlement 121 

VIII.  Hugh  disappears.  —  Terrible  Storm  and 
Wreck  of  a  Steamer. — Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand and  Marianna  find  great  Treasures 

in  the  Ocean  153 

(5) 


C,  CONTENTS. 

Ch.pter.  P««^ 

IX.  After  the  Storm. — Blanche  Ferrand  discovers 
that  her  Husband  is  a  Wrecker. — Pleas- 
ant Changes  take  place  in  Marianna's 

Home 173 

X.  How  Mrs.  Ferrand,  Bessie,  and  Marianna 
lived  together  on  the  Island.  —  What 
Blanche  and  Marianna  talked  of. — There 

comes  still  another  Change  205 

XL  The  effects  of  his  Loss  upon  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand.—  Marianna  and  Be?sie  as  Com- 
prmions. — Bessie  is  deprived  of  her  other 

Parent 237 

XII.  A  Time  of  Mourning  in  the  Wreckers'  Settle- 
ment.— Xew  Ideas  are  introduced  among 
the  Women. — Mariarma  begins  the;  great 

Work  of  her  Life 261 

XIIL  Von  Ulden  in  the  Sunday  Fchool.— The  Re- 
sult of  Hugh's  Journey  i  \  1  elmlf  of 
Lieutenant  Ferrand.  —  The  Prisoner's 
Experience.  —  Death  of  Von  Ulden. — 
Conclusion  . .  . .  305 


THE 

WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE      SHIPWRECK. 


frivjWAYBEEAK,  upon  the  coast  of  Flor-. 

**F?^  ida,  showed  a  two-masted,  vessel,  or 
**'  ^  "schooner,"1  driven  before  a  heavy 
gale,  and  tossed  upon  tlie  waves  of  a  boister- 
ous sea.  The  only  persons  on  board  of  this 
vessel  were  its  owner,  .Richard  Von  Ulden, 
his  son,  his  little  grand-daughter,  her  mu- 
latto nurse,  and  a  boy  who  did  the  roughest 
of  the  work.  Marianna,  the  little  girl,  was 
but  three  years  old.  Several  months  before, 
she  had  the  sad  misfortune  to  lose  her  moth- 


\\KKCKKli  S     (iRANIM'IIILI). 

•or,  and  :hed  tears  over  a  great,  and  never-to- 
be  -  forgotten  sorrow.  Her  grand  -  father, 
"UVIiard  Von  Vlden,  was  one  whose  whole 
history  would  add  ninch  to  the  interei-t 
of  this  narrative,  if  we  could  spare  the 
space  for  it.  From  childhood,  it  had  been 
his  principal  aim,  to  take  every  possible  ad- 
vantage of  his  fellow-beings,  and  to  gain  for 
himself  all  that  he  could,  even  if  others  had 
to  suffer.  AVhen  a  boy,  his  greatest  delight 
was  in  winning  marbles,  or  in  taking  pen- 
nies and  sweetmeats  from  other  children,  if 
they  happened  to  be  younger  and  weaker 
than  himself: — while,  towards  those  who 
were  as  strong  as  he  was,  he  employed 
trickery  and  cheating  to  gain  from  them 
what  he  coveted,  lie  grew  up  to  be  a  self- 
ish, unprincipled  man.  lie  tried  a  variety 
of  speculations,  was  successful,  and  made  a 
great  deal  of  money,  but  he  forfeited  the 


WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD.  9 

good  opinion  and  confidence  of  all  who 
knew  him.  At  length,  in  consequence  of 
breaking  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  a 
very  fine  vessel,  which  he  owned,  was  taken 
from  him,  and  sold.  This  was  a  heavy  loss, 
for  which  no  one  pitied  him ;  and  this  addi- 
tional vexation  made  him  so  angry  that  he 
resolved  to  leave  his  country  and  go  to  live 
in  Cuba.  Tie  requested  his  son,  Marianna's 
father,  to  accompany  him,  and  the  young- 
man  consented.  It  must  not  be  supposed 
however  from  this  circumstance,  that  young- 
Yon  Uldeii  was  like  his  father,  in  character 
or  purpose,  lie  was  a  steady,  industrious, 
upright  man.  Instead  of  being  ruined  by 
his  father's  example,  he  had  the  good  sense 
to  learn  from  it  that  oft-repeated,  yet  oft- 
forgotten  lesson,  that  there  is  no  policy  so 
truly  shrewd  and  wise,  and  so  much  to  one's- 
ad  vantage  as  that  of  honesty. 


lu  WRECKER'S  ^RAND-CHILD. 

The  Von  Fldens  were  soon  upon  tlicir 
way  to  Cuba,  in  a  vessel  belonging  to  the 
old  m:in,  who,  because  he  had  once  been  a 
sea  captain,  insisted  that  he  was  able  to 
serve  as  pilot,  during  the  voyage.  FcolMi, 
obstinate  man !  In  more  important  matters, 
this  had  been  his  great  mistake.  He  had 
rejected  Jesns,  the  heavenly  Pilot,  who  conld 
have  guided  him  with  unerring  safety,  and 
had  determined  to  steer  his  own  course 
through  life. 

There  lie  st< ><>.!.  grasping  the  helm,  and 
looking,  with  desperate  obstinacy,  straight 
ahead,  while  his  vessel  staggered  and  shook 
bofbiv  the  biitietings  of  the  storm.  His 
head  was  uncovered,  his  busby,  gray  hair 
and  In-ard  were  dishevelled  by  the  gale; — 
his  lips  iirmly  compressed,  and  his  fiery, 
blood-snot  eyes  almost  hidden  by  their  over- 
hanging brows. 


WRECKER'S  <;KANIM.;IIILD.  II 

Young  Von  Vlden,  and  John,  tlie  l>oy, 
did  all  tliey  could  in  managing  the  vessel, 
and  their  pale,  anxious  faces  showed  that 
they  knew  the  greatness  of  the  impending 
danger.  Little  Marianna  with  her  nurse 
was  below,  in  the  cabin,  and  the  thoughts 
of  her  father  dwelt  almost  entirely  upon  his 
helpless  child. 

Presently,  a  heavy  sea  dashed  over  the 
vessel,  and  swept  young  Yon  I'ldeii  and 
John  from  the  deck  into  the  ocean  !  Mari- 
anna's  father  uttered  one  cry  to  his  Maker, 
and  then,  with  the  poor,  friendless  lad  who 
shared  his  fate,  disappeared  forever,  amidst 
the  roaring  waves. 

A  groan  burst  from  the  old  man's  lips, 
and  his  hands,  relaxing  their  hold  of  the 
helm,  fell  helpless  by  his  sides. 

At  this  moment,  a  sunken  rock  pierced 
the  vessel's  hull,  and  the  water,  rushing  into 


12  WBECKER'C 

the  cabin,  compelled  the  colored  woman, 
Naomi,  to  hasten  upon  deck,  with  little  Ma- 
rianna 

"Oh,  Mr.  Yon  Ulden,  the  vessel  has 
struck!"  exclaimed  Naomi,  "hut  where  is 
"Master  George?  Where  is  Johnny?" 

"Ask  that  sea!"  shouted  the  old  man, 
turning  his  fierce  and  haggard  countenance 
upon  her,  and  pointing,  with  quivering  fin- 
ger, to  the  billows  amidst  which  his  son  and 
the  boy  had  disappeared. 

Overcome  with  horror  and  grief,  Naomi 
threw  herself  upon  the  deck,  where,  indeed, 
it  would  have  been  difficult  to  stand  up- 
right, on  account  of  the  roc-king  and  plung- 
ing of  the  vessel.  Von  T'lden  took  no  no- 
tice of  her  emotion,  but  fixed  his  eves  upon 
little  Marianna.  She  was  now  the  only 
creature  upon  earth  who.-e  safety  he  cared 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  13 

for,  or  whom  lie  could  expect  to  cherish  any 
affection  for  him. 

At  one  time,  while  with  her  nurse,  below, 
in  the  cabin,  she  was  very  much  frightened 
by  the  violence  of  the  storm,  the  tossing  of 
the  vessel  and  the  agitation  which  she  no- 
ticed in  all  the  persons  on  board.  Xest- 
ling  close  to  Naomi,  and  looking  up  in  her 
face,  she  said,  "  My  papa  can  save  us ; — can't 
he?" 

"  My  dear  child,"  answered  Naomi,  as  she 
pressed  her  to  her  bosom,  "  your  papa  will 
do  all  he  can ;  but,  if  we  are  saved,  it  will 
not  be  by  him." 

"  Then  it  will  be  Gran'papa  that  will  take 
us  all  on  shore,"  questioned  Mariaima. 

"  The  only  one  that  can  bring  us  safely  on 
shore,"  answered  Naomi,  "  is  our  Father  in 
Heaven,  whom  you  pray  to  every  night  and 


2 


1-i  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

morning.  If  we  want  to  be  safe,-now,  or 
any  other  time, — we  must  look  to  God" 

These  words  were  spoken  very  earnestly, 
and  they  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  in- 
fant mind  of  Marianna,  for  she  knew  that 
her  good  nurse  never  deceived  her.  Thence- 
forth, she  was  <juiet,  and,  taking  Xaomi's  ad- 
vice to  "look  to  God,"  in  the  literal  sense, 
she  kept  her  eyes  raised  towards  Heaven, 
where  she  knew  that  her  Divine  Father 
dwelt. 

When  the  waves  ourst  into  the  cabin, 
and  Xaomi  with  her  little  charge  fled  to 
the  deck,  Marianna  cast  a  hurried  glance 
around,  in  the  expectation  of  seeing  her 
father, — unconscious  that  she  was  now  an 
orphan.  Xaomi's  sinking  down  upon  the 
deck,  as  we  have  described,  left  the  child 
entirely  to  herself,  for  a  time,  and  she  saw 
no  way  ot  safety,  except  by  following  to 


WRECKER'S  GRAXIM^IIILD.  15 

the  best  <;f  her  understanding  the  advice 
which  had  been  given  her.  Instinctively,  she 
dropped  upon  her  knees,  and  put  her  hands 
together,  as  she  did  when  she  said  lier 
prayers.  As  we  have  mentioned,  it  was  just 
day-break,  and  she  still  wore  her  white 
night-dress,  while  her  long,  fair  hair,  half  un- 
curled by  the  salt  spray  that  was  sprinkled 
over  it,  hung  loosely  down  her  back. 

She  did  not  look  at  the  huge  waves  that 
hurried  foaming  and  roaring,  to  dash  them- 
selves upon  the  trembling  vessel;  she  did 
not  look  at  the  torn  sails  and  bending  masts, 
nor  at  the  sharp  rocks  amidst  which  the 
schooner  Avas  driven.  She  dreaded  to  look 
anywhere  except  "to  God'^  and  although 
but  a  little  child  of  three  years  old,  who  can 
doubt  that  that  upward  gaze  was  directcYl 
by  a  real  faith.  It  was  towards  a  clouded 
mid  stormy  sky  that  Marianna  gazed,  but 


Iti  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

she  fully  believed  that  above  that  sky  dwelt 
the  good  and  great  Being,  who  was  now 
looking  down  at  her,  and  who  knew  the 
confidence  that  she  placed  in  Him. 

Hark,  that  sudden  crash ! — One  of  the 
masts  lias  snapped  off,  and  fallen  across  the 
deck,  missing  but  little  of  striking  Xaoini, 
who  starts  half  up,  and  clasps  Marianna  in 
her  arms.  Seeing  that  the  vessel  is  going 
to  pieces,  Yon  Ulden  also  hurries  to  Mari- 
anna, and,  with  sonic  broken  ropes,  binds 
both  her  and  her  nurse  securely  to  the 
fallen  mast.  There  is  a  yet  more  fearful 
crash,  as  the  shattered  wreck  is  hurled  upon 
the  beach.  Now,  even  the  sky  is  hidden 
from  Marianna  by  the  breakers  that  dash 
over  her; — and  her  eyes,  which  she  has 
persistently  kept  uplifted,  amidst  so  many 
dangers  and  horrors,  are  forced  to  close-  in 
blank  unconsciousness. 


WRECKER  8    GRAND-CHILD.  IT 

But  He  to  whom  Marianna  had  looked  so 
trustingly,  was  watching  over  her,  with  ten- 
der love,  and  it  was  not  long  before  she 
again  opened  her  eyes,  and  found  herself 
yet  in  this  world.  She  lay  upon  a  clean 
though  coarse  bed,  in  the  principal  room  of 
a  cottage}  not  far  from  the  beach.  The  floor 
was  bare,  the  furniture  very  plain,  and  round 
the  walls  hung  fishing-nets,  lanterns,  coils  of 
rope,  and  various  things  that  had  belonged 
to  foundered  vessels.  Two  or  three  women 
were  bending  anxiously  over  Mariaima,  and 
when  she  revived  and  looked  around,  ex- 
clamations of  joy  broke  from  their  lips. 
Naomi  lay.  upon  some  bed-clothing  spread 
on  the  floor,  for  she  was  still  insensible  from 
the  effects  of  the  cuts  and  bruises  which  she 
had  received,  while  clasping  little  Marian na, 
so  as  to  shield  her  with  her  own  body  from 
receiving  any  injury. 


18  WRECKER'S  GRAXIWHILD. 

The  mistress  of  the  cottage  gave  Marianna 
a  warm  kiss,  accompanied  with  the  words. 
"  So,  my  pretty  lamb,  you  are  sale,  at  la.-t !" 

"Yes,  ma'am," — answered  the  child,  with 
all  the  simplicity  of  her  age,  "I  kept  looking 
up  to  God,  as  long  as  I  could  keep  my  eyes 
open. " 

The  three  women  stared  at  Marianna,  and 
then  at  each  other,  with  an  expression  of  won- 
der, not  ummixed  with  aw.  It  was  rarely 
indeed  that  they  heard  pious  words,  even  from 
the  lips  of  grown  people,  and  still  less  did  they 
expect  to  hear  them  from  a  little  child. 

"  I'm  afraid  she  wont  live,  after  all."  mur- 
mured the  oldest  of  the  women,  as  she  shook 
her  head,  with  a  melancholy  expression. 
Marianna's  next  words  were,  u  Where  is  my 
papa  ?"  "Your  /y/vzW-papa,  you  mean,  my 
dove,"  answered  the  mistress  of  the  cottage. 
"  He  was  the  only  one  who  came  to  shore  a!  i  vc, 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  19 

'sides  you  and  your  nurse,  and  lie's  getting 
along  finely  ;-only  lie's  swallowed  so  much 
salt  water.  He'll  be  mighty  glad  to  see  you 
doing  so  well,  pretty  chick  !" 

Marianna  considered  for  a  moment  or  two, 
and  then  burst  into  tears,  for,  young  as  she 
was,  she  now  saw  the  truth,  that  she  was  fath- 
erless, as  well  as  motherless. 

Two  of  the  womeii'now  turned  their  atten- 
tion to  Naomi,  who  was  presently  restored  to 
consciousness,  though  still  in  a  weak  and  suf- 
fering state.  The  first  movement  she  made 
was  to  clasp  her  arms  over  her  bosom,  as 
though  she  held  something  in  them,  but,  find- 
ing that  her  nursling  was  no  longer  in  her 
embrace,  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  gazing 
wildly  around,  exclaimed,  "  Where  is  my 
precious  child  ?" 

"  Here,  Aunt  Naomi,"  cried  Mariannar 
springing  from  her  bed,  and  throwing  her 


20 


WBKCKKB  S    GKAND-CHILD. 


arms  around  her  nurse's  neck.  Tears  of 
gladness  streamed  down  Xaomi's  cheeks,  as, 
sinking  back,  slie  ejaculated,  "  Then,  Lord> 
lit  me  live  or  die,  just  as  it  is  thy  will !" 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE     NEW     LIVES     OF     MARIANNA     AND     HER 
GR  ANDF  ATII ER. 

the  time  of  which  we  are  writing, 
jjp  that  part  of  the  coast  of  Florida  on 
which  Yon  Ulden,  his  grand-child, 
and  her  nnrse,  had  been  cast,  was  inhabited 
almost  entirely  by  a  kind  of  people  called 
*'  wreckers,"  who  made  a  business  of  secu- 
ring for  themselves  everything  of  the  slight- 
est value  which  could  be  saved  from  the 
wrecks  that  frequently  occurred  upon  their 
"  sea  beat  shore."  Such  an  occupation  was, 
not  of  course,  regulated  by  the  rules  of  hon- 
esty, and  often  led  those  who  followed  it  to 
commit  the  most  barbarous  acts  ; — so  that 
it  is  needless  to  say  they  were  a  very  har- 
dened, unprincipled  class  of  people. 


22  WRECKER'S  ^RAND-CHILI). 

"When  some  of  these  men  came  to  the 
beach,  to  see  what  they  could  get  from  the 
wreck  of  Von  Ulden's  vessel,  two  of  them 
were  accompanied  by  their  wives,  who  usually 
assisted  in  gathering  up  the  spoils.  But,  no 
sooner  did  the  women  see  the  insensible  form 
of  Marianna,  as  she  and  her  nurse,  still  clasp- 
ing each  other,  lay  upon  the  wet  sand,  than 
their  rugged  hearts  were  softened  by  pity. 

Yon  Ulden  lay  close  by,  also  insensible, 
and  the  wife  of  the  wrecker  who  lived  nearest 
to  this  spot,  insisted  that  the  child,  the  nurse, 
and  the  old  man,  should  all  be  carried  to  her 
cottage.  Her  husband  made  no  objection,  as 
he  had  secured  for  himself  Von  Ulden's  gold 
watch,  and  two.  sea-chests  full  of  clothing; 
and,  even  if  the  owner  had  known  which  of 
the  wreckers  had  taken  this  property  there 
were  no  means  of  compelling  its  restoration. 
The  plunderers  supposed  that  Von  Ulden's 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

money- must  have  have  been  lost  in  the  sea, 
— but  this  was  a  mistake,  as  he  had  a  con- 
siderable sum  safely  hidden  away  in  the  li- 

mncrs  of  the  clothes  which  he  then  had  on. 

& 

When  Yon  Uldeii  first  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  late  accident,  he  was  unable  to 
make  up  his  mind  where  he  should  go,  or 
what  he  should  do.  As  he  took  notice  of  the 
wreckers,  and  the  spoils  they  had  collected,, 
the  idea  came  into  his  mind  that  he  could 
not  find  any  occupation  which  would  suit 
him  better  than  to  remain  wThere  he  was,  and 
become  a  wrecker  himself.  Poor  Marianna 
was  too  young  to  understand  any  thing  of 
the  nature  of  her  grandfather's  resolution,  or 
of  the  trouble  which,  at  a  future  day,  it  was 
to  cause  them  both. 

Upon  a  small  island,  close  to  the  coast, 
there  stood  a  half  ruined  cottage,  which  the 
ignorant  people  in  that  vicinity  supposed  to 


24  WKIOCKKK'S   <;KAxi>-rniLr>. 

l)e  "  haunted."  V<m  Ulden,  however,  very 
truly  observed  that  there  was  no  danger  of 
liis  seeing  there  any  worse  spirit  than  him- 
self. Tie  had  the  cottage  enlarged  and  re- 
paired, after  purchasing  it,  for  a  trifling  sum, 
from  a  man  who  claimed  to  he  its  owner  ; 
and  this  place  was  for  many  years  the  home 
of  Marianna. 

Yon  Ulden  provided  himself  with  boats 
and  other  apparatus,  superior  to  anything 
owned  by  the  other  wreckers,  and  hired  two 
or  three  men  to  assist  him  in  gathering  a 
large  share  of  booty  from  the  wrecks  which 
occurred.  This  soon  excited  the  jealousy 
of  the  other  wreckers  ;  but  Von.  Ulden  paci- 
fied them  by  making  liberal  presents  to  them 
and  their  families,  and  by  treating  them  fre- 
quently to  spirituous  liquors. 

At  length  he  proposed  that  they  should 
form  a  company,  or  association,  to  share 


WRECKER'S  <;IIANI>-CHILP.  25 

equally  all  the  labors,  the  dangers,  and  the 
profits  of  their  business.  This  was  accord- 
ingly done,  and  Von  Ulden  was  appointed 
the  head  and  director  of  all  the  other 
wreckers,  who  were  accustomed,  jokingly,  to 
term  him  "the  Commodore."  Here,  then, 
he  had  everything  that  he  wished  for  ;  and 
we  cannot  say  that  his  conscience  troubled 
him,  for  it  was  daily  becoming  more  and 
more  hardened. 

But  what  satisfaction,  what  peace  of  mind, 
did  he  enjoy  ? — Around  him  were  men 
whom  he  incited  to  seize  the  property  of 
others,  and  whom  he  even  encouraged  to 
take  human  life,  rather  than  give  up  their 
ill-gotten  booty. 

How  could  he  feel  certain  that,  some  time, 

they  might  not  rob  and  murder  him  ? — By 

night  and  by  day,  he  always  kept  a    pistol 

convenient  to  his  hand,  and,  when  the  other 

3 


ZU  WKK<   KKK  S    <;KAM»-rinr,T). 

wreckers,  were  near  him,  lie  frequently  rolled 
liis  eyes  around  with  a  look  full  of  suspicion 
and  restlessness. 

It  is  strange  how  tar  apart  the  lives  of 
Marianna  and  her  grandfather  seemed  to  be, 
thongll  living  beneath  the  same  roof!  In 
the  little  girl's  eyes,  their  new  home  was 
beautiful  and  pleasant.  The  house  was  a 
two  story  frame  building,  with  two  rooms  on 
a  floor,  separated  bv  a  broad  hall-way.  On 
one  side  of  the  lower  hall  was  a  room  in 
which  Von  Ulden  was  accustomed  to  receive 
the  other  wreckers,  and  to  Settle  his  accounts. 
with  them.  Here,  there  was  verv  little  of 
ordinary  furniture,  but  quite  an  assortment 
of  wooden  chests,  piles  of  saiU  ropes,  and 
other  things  gathered  from  wrecks.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  hall  was  the  sitting-room, 
a  large  and  airy  apartment,  with  the  floor 
covered  with  white  and  red  matting.  The 


WKKCKKli  S    QRAN1MJHILD.  '2  < 

mantel-shelf  and  tables  were  adorned  with 
beautiful  shells,  corals,  dried  sea-plants,  and 
many  other  curious  and  pretty  things,  which 
had  been  given  to  Marianna  by  her  grand- 
father, or  by  the  wives  of  the  wreckers.  One 
of  the  apartments  up  stairs  was  the  sleeping- 
room  of  Von  Ulden,  where  he  kept  the  most 
valuable  part  of  his  plunder,  carefully  locked 
up.  The  other  was  the  bed-chamber  of  Mar- 
ianna and  her  nurse. 

A  white  servant  woman  slept  in  a  room 
over  the  kitchen,  which  was  in  a  small  build- 
ing separate  from  the  main  dwelling,  accord- 
ing to  a  common  custom  in  the  South.  At- 
tached to  the  house  was  a  garden,  nearly 
filled  with  orange  trees,  now  growing  wild 
and  untended,  yet  showing  many  a  tempt- 
ing golden-tinted  globe,  suspended  amidst 
their  dark  green  leaves. 

A  cluster  of  these  orange  trees,  entwined 


WKECKKK  S   (;IZAM»-C: 


with  flowering  vines,  firmed  a  charming  lit- 
tle bower,  where  Marianna  sat  and  played. 
She  was  generally  alone,  while  amusing  her- 
self, for  her  grand-father  wished  her  to  be 
brought  up  a  lady,  and  would  rarely  allow 
her  to  have  anything  to  say  to  the  rude  and 
ignorant  children  of  the  wreckers.  ]'r.t  she 
had  pet  birds  and  squirrels,  and  played  with 
them  so  often  that  she  and  they  seemed  quite 
to  understand  each  other's  language. 

Sometimes,  Marianna  would  gather  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  fruit,  and  give  a  feast  to  her 
pets,  in  the  orange  tree  bower.  Her  table 
was  a  flat  moss-covered  stone;  her  dishes 
were  acorn-cups,  and  pink  and  white  shells. 
which  she  picked  up  on  the  beach.  All  her 
play-things  were  gathered  from  Nature's 
great  store  house. 

liarianna's  education  began  by  Xaomi's 
teaching  her  how  to  read,  which  was  as  far 


WliK'/KKuV    GRAND-CHILI).  29 

as  her  own  knowledge  extended.  To  this, 
Von  Ulden  added  his  instructions  in  writing 
and  arithmetic,  for  he  knew  that  Marianna 
could  not  claim  any  superiority  over  the 
children  of  the  wreckers,  if  she  was  no  more 
intelligent  than  they  were.  Bnt,  by  far  the 
most  impoitant  knowledge  which  Marianna 
ever  possessed  was  conveyed  by  Naomi  ;  for 
she  alone  gave  to  the  little  island  girl  that 
religions  instruction  which  my  young  readers 
receive  from  parents,  Sunday-school  teachers, 
and  pastors.  Every  day  Marianna  and  her 
imrse  read  the  Bible  together,  especially  the 
New  Testament,  and  many  a  long  and  earn- 
est conversation  did  thev  hold  concernin<r 

«/  o 

those  grand  and  wonderful  truths  : — 

"How  pjuililcfs  blood  for  £>T.ilty  mr.n  w;.s  .'lied, 
How  ho  who  bore  in  Heaven  the  second  r.;:rno 
Had  not  on  earth  the  whereto  l.':y  his  head; 
How  his  iirst  followers  and  servs.nts  f-pcd; 
The  preeepts  sa<re  they  wrote  to  many  a  land  ; 


30  WKKCKKIl's    (rK  VXD-CHILD. 

How  he  who  lone  in  Patmos  banished, 

Saw  in  the  sun  a  mighty  angel  stand, 

And  heard  great  Babylon's  doom  pronounced  by- 
Heaven's  command." 

Often,  Marianna  would  address  t)  her 
grandfather  some  artless  remarks,  that  were 
like  gall  and  wormwood  to  a  soul  BO  wrap- 
ped up  in  sin.  While  she  was  a  small  child, 
Von.  Ulden  heard  these  remarks  in  gloomy 
silence,  or  turned  the  conversation  to  some 
other  subject ;  but  as  she  grew  older,  he  be- 
came more  impatient  upon  such  occasions. 
One  afternoon,  she  was  sitting  at  her  grand- 
father's feet,  engaged  in  tying  up  bundles  of 
richly  colored  wild  riowers  which  she  had 
gathered  upon  the  island.  Von  I'lden  had 
a  book  in  his  hand,  but  >ooii  threw  it  down, 
with  a  sort  of  groaning  yawn  that  showed 
how  hard  it  was  for  him  to  be  amused  or 
s.itistied. 

"Grandpapa,"    said     Marianna,    suddenly 


WBECKKR'S  (iRAxn-cniLr.  81 


looking  up  into  his  face,  "  I  never  see  yon 
read  the  Bible  !  —  Sha'nt  I  get  it,  and  read  to 
you  about  Jesus,  and  what  lie  did  for  us  f 

The  hardened  old  man  glared  upon  his  in- 
nocent grand  child  like  a  wild  beast  that  has 
just  felt  the  cut  of  the  keeper's  whip. 

"  JVW  was  his  harsh  and  angry  reply,  UI 
don't  want  to  hear  about  anything  of  the 
kind.  It  must  be  old  Xaomi  that  fills  your 
head  with  such  stuff,  and  if  there  was  any- 
body else  here,  that  could  take  such  good 
care  of  you,  I'd  send  her  away  for  putting 
you  up  to  torment  me  in  this  fashion  !" 

The  child  grew  pale  and  trembled  at  her 
grandfather's  look,  and,  while  the  tears  began 
to  flow  down  her  cheeks,  she  exclaimed,  aOh 
grandpapa,  don't  be  angry  with  Naomi,  and 
I'll  never  talk  to  you  so  again  !" 

"  See  that  you  don't  then,"  wras  Yon  Ul- 
den's  sharp  retort. 


32  WKKCKKR'S  OKANIM-TIILD. 

Marianna  did  not  dare  to  speak  again  to 
him  upon  such  subjects,  but  she  often  thought 
of  the  strangeness  of  her  grandfather's  con- 
duct, and  it  seemed  to  her  more  and  more 
mysterious. 

Xaomi  was  indeed,  the  only  person  with 
whom  Marianna  could  talk  freely,  and  as  the 
little  girl  grew  older,  she  began  to  make  fre- 
quent inquiries  about  her  nurse's  former 
history. — Having  been  told  by  Xaomi  that 
she  had  once  been  a  slave,  Marianna  inquired, 
"I low  long  since  you  were  set  free,  aunt 
Xaomi  '." 

"It's  been  about  fifteen  years  ago  that  Mr. 
Thompson,  my  Georgia  master,  gave  me  my 
freedom,''  said  Xaomi.  "  But,  dear  child,  I 
wa>  set  free  long  before  //<//.  Even  while 
people  thought  me  nothing  but  a  poor  slave, 
the  Truth  had  made  me  free,  and  the  great 
King  of  ( ilory  adopted  me  for  his  own  child  J 


WRECKER'S     GRAND-CHILD.  66 

My  husband  and  all  my  children  were  sold, 
— one  here,  one  there, — but  all  to  far-off 
places,  so  that  I  shall  never,  never  meet 
them  again,  until  these  eyes  open  upon  the 
light  of  Heaven.  But  no  one  could  sell  my 
Saviour  away  from  me  !  He  has  been  with 
me  always,  though  I  can't  see  Him  now,  for 
the  veil  of  mortality  that's  over  my  face,  but 
when  T  do  see  him,  at  last,  I  shall  see  my 
husband  and  children  too  !" 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOW     ONE     WAS     MADE     HAPPY,  AND    ANOTHER 
MADE  HIMSELF    WRETCHED. 

_.« 

pHE  passing  away  of  ten  years,  from  the 
time  that  they  were  first  ship-wreck- 
ed upon  the  Florida  coast,  brought 
about  far  greater  changes  in  Marianna,  her 
grandfather  and  her  nurse,  than  in  any  of  the 
objects  around  them.  Marianna  was  now 
thirteen  years  old,  and,  though  the  wreckers 
and  their  families  often  saw  the  island  giri, 
they  always  gazed  upon  her  with  that  wonder- 
ing reverence  which  they  might  have  felt 
upon  seeing  a  spirit  from  the  dwelling  place 
of  the  blessed.  Her  hair,  (which  she  still 
continued  to  wear  in  those  long  and  beautiful 
curls  that  nature  had  arranged.)  was  of  rather 

35 


;;»>  WriKCKKu's    UKAMM'IIILI). 

a  light  brown  color;  her  eyes  were  very  dark. 

There  was  an  earnestness,  an  intensity  of  ex- 
pression nothing  less  than  thrilling  to  the 
beholder.  Her  delicate  features  lighted  up 
with  a  look  so  noble,  so  refined  and  pure, 
that  the  proudest  princess  on  earth  could 
hardly  have  dared  to  assume  any  airs  of 
superiority  towards  her,  in  the  simple  dress 
of  light  colored  "  print,"  or  lawn,  which  she 
usually  wore.  Already,  she  took  the  over- 
sight of  the  household  affairs,  and  was  very 
expert  in  the  use  of  her  needle, — for  she  was 
one  of  those  amiable  yet  energetic  characters 
that  never  need  any  driving  or  urging  to 
make  them  useful. 

Xaomi  was  an  elderly  woman  at  the  time 
when  we  began  our  narrative,  and  the  ad- 
dition of  ten  years  made  her  quite  feeble. 
She  herself  saw  plainly  that  her  health  was 
failing,  and,  in  talking  with  Marianna,  she 


WKK<   KKK  S    (,  K  A  MM  '  I!  I  LI).  o< 

often  endeavored  to  prepare  her  for  the  sep- 
aration that  must  soon  take  place.  Marianna 
only  answered  by  her  tears,  and  by  redoub- 
ling her  care  and  attention  to  her  nurse's 
comfort,  while  she  remained  with  her. 

Every  clear  afternoon,  Naomi  would  take 
her  Bible  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other,  the 
stick  she  used  in  walking,  and  go  to  a  vener- 
able orange  tree,  that  for  fifty  years  had  con- 
tinued to  scatter  its  fragrant  blossoms,  and 
bear  its  sweet,  refreshing  fruit. 

Here,  within  sight  of  the  ocean,  she  would 
sit,  and  read,  and  meditate,  until  night  drew 
near. 

One  day,  when  she  seemed  unusually 
feeble,  Marianna  assisted  her  to  reach  this 
favorite  spot,  and  then  returned  home  to  see 
that  her  grandfather's  supper  was  prepared 
and  served.  When  the  sun  was  about  to  set, 
she  hastened  back,  to  assist  Naomi  inreturn- 
4 

452664 


38  WRECKER'S  (;RAM>-<  IIILD. 

ing  t<>  the  house.  She  sat  leaning  against 
tlie  orange  tree,  with  the  Bible  in  her  lap, 
open  at  the  :Mst  elia]>ter  of  Revelations,  in 
v/hich  she  had  been  reading  a  description  of 
the  city  that  is  made  of  gold,  and  pearl,  Mid 
all  manner  of  precious  stones.  In  thinking 
over. this  description,  she  had  raised  her  eyes 
from  the  book,  and,  looking  across  the  sea, 
at  the  western  sky,  she  saw  there  a  glorious 
picture,  formed  by  the  sunset  clouds,  that 
seemed  like  the  golden  palaces,  and  rainbow 
colored  hills,  of  the  heavenly  land  of  which 
she  was  meditating.  And,  as  she  thus  gazed, 
her  spirit  passed  quickly  overland  and  ocean, 
and  through  those  glowing  clouds,  and  en- 
tered the  city  of  her  King  ! 

The  placid  look,  and  unclosed  eyes  of  her 
nurse,  prevented  Marianna,  at  first,  from 
seeing  what  had  happened.  She  came  near. 
and  spoke  to  Kaomi.  Surprised  at  receiving 


AVRKCKKR  S    GRAND-CHILD.  Oil 

no  answer  she  took  hold  of  her  hand,  but 
quickly  let  it  fall.  At  this  moment  Lucy 
the  white  servant,  came  to  tell  Marianna  that 
her  grandfather  was  growing  impatient  at 
her  absence. 

"  Lucy,"  cried  Marianna,  "  do  come  here, 
to  aunt  Xaomi,  and  tell  me  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  her !"  Lucy  came  up,  gazed  at  the 
aged  woman's  lifeless  form,  touched  it,  and 
then  shook  her  head  with  a  significant  look. 

•<  Can  we  do  nothing  for  her?"  exclaimed 
Marianna.  "  But,  look,  Lucy, — what  are 
those  white  wings  waving,  far  out  at  sea  ?" 

u  Why,  they  must  be  some  kind  of  sea- 
birds,  of  course,"  answered  Lucy,  with  sur- 
prise. 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  said  Marianna,  bursting 
into  tears,  "they  are  angels,  that  are  carry- 
ing away  aunt  Xaomi !" 

The  earthly  remains  of  Naomi   were  laid 


4O  WBKCKKKS    (;KAM>-riIIU>. 

1  >  rest  beneath  the  ancient  orange  tive. 
whose  IVnit  and  blo»om^,  dropping  upon 
her  grave,  might  well  be  compared  t<>  the 
good  deeds  she  had  done,  and  to  the  fragrance 
of  her  precious  memory. 

She  had  no  monument,  except  in  the  liv- 
ing virtues  of  the  sweet  girl  whom  she 
had  reared,  and  no  epitaph,  except  that 
which  was  engraved  upon  the  orphan**  grate- 
ful heart. 

Time  had  reduced  Marianna's grandfather 
to  a  most  unhappy  condition,  lie  wa>  now 
seventy  years  old,  and  crippled  l>y  the  rheu- 
matism to  a  degree  which  added  much  t«>  the 
infirmities  of  old  age.  But  this  was  noth- 
ing, compared  with  the  increased  harshne» 
and  irritability  of  his  temper.  A  violent, 
headstrong  di>p<»iti«>n,  which  its  owner  lias 
eheribiied  during  a  whole  lifetime,  often 
seems,  in  old  a^e,  like  a  sort  of  in>anitv  : 


WRECKER'S    GKANIMMIILP.  4-1 

and  Von  Ulden  might  have  equalled  any  of 
the  Roman  tyrants  in  cruel  barbarity,  if 
Providence  had  not  kindly  denied  him  the 
power  to  do  so. 

Marianna  found  it  almost  impossible  to 
get  any  servant  to  remain  with  such  a  master; 
and  Lucy,  though  a  remarkably  good-natured 
girl,  left  them  suddenly,  one  morning,  be- 
cause Von  Ulden  had  thrown  a  large  cup 
full  of  coffee  at  her  head,  because  the  bev- 
erage was  not  quite  as  strong  as  he  liked  it. 
As  Lucy  told  everybody  the  reason  of  her 
leaving,  no  girl  or  woman,  among  the  families 
of  the  wreckers,  offered  to  take  her  place  ; 
and  Marianna, —  child  as  she  was, — proposed- 
to  her  grandfather  that  she  should  do  all  the 
house-work  herself.  But  Von  Ulden,  at  this 
idea,  iie\v  into  a  terrific  passion,  and  accused 
his  grand-daughter  of  wishing  to  "  degrade" 
both  herself  and  him.  by  such  "  mean-spirited 
4* 


42  WRECKER'S  <,KAM>-rmu>. 

conduct  as  that  of  performing  a  servant'.- 
duties. 

While  Marianna  was  thu>  perplexed, there 

came  to  the  house  a  pom-  widow,  wlm.-e  oidv 
sou  had  been  drowned.  Since  this  loss,  she 
had  heeu  extremely  ]>our,  and  only  managed 
to  live  at  all  by  assisting  the  wrecker's  wives 
in  their  washing,  and  other  hard  work.  Of 
late,  however,  she  had  received  a  great  deal 
of  assistance  from  the  charity  of  Marianna, 
whose  mind  was  already  active  in  finding  out 
wavs  of  doing  good.  This  widow  gladly 
consented  to  do  the  chief  ]>art  of  the  house- 
work in  Von  Ulden's  family.  Marianna 
promised  to  see  that  she  was  liberally  paid, 
but  apprised  her,  at  the  same  time,  that  a 
great  deal  of  patience  would  he  required  in 
waiting  upon  her  grand-father. 

u  Oh,  inv  dear  "Mi>s,  was  the  reply,  "  I  can 
rtt.:nd    his    crossness,  when    I  think  of  your 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  43 

goodness  ; — and  even  if  you  had  promised 
me  nothing  but  food  and  shelter,  I  should 
be  glad  enough  to  work  for  you  /" 

Nothing  aggravated  Yon  Ulden  so  much 
as  the  way  in  which  he  was  now  treated  by 
the  other  wreckers.  It  could  scarcely  be 
expected  that  they  would  have  enough  of 
kindness,  patience,  and  delicacy  of  feeling,  to 
excuse  the  "  old  Commodore's'1  disagreeable 
caprices  on  account  of  his  age  and  infirmities. 
They  had  once  admired  his  boldness,  shrewd- 
ness, and  energy  ;  they  now  despised  his 
weakness,  and  considered  him  no  longer  of 
any  importance  to  them. 

The  little  Island  where  Yon  Ulden  dwelt 
was  now  deserted,  except  by  himself,  his 
grand-child,  and  the  woman  who  worked  for 
them  ; — hut  this  was  a  source  of  satisfaction 
to  Marianim,  who  had  always  retreated,  as 


fast  and  as  far  as  possible,  from  seeing  and 
hearing  their  wrecker  visitors. 

Finding  that  these  men  no  longer  came  to 
him  to  ask  advice,  to  receive  orders,  or  to 
bring  a  portion  of  their  spoils,  Von  Vlclen 
resolved  to  go  to  them,  and  demand  the  rea- 
son of  their  conduct. 

Accordingly  with  the  help  of  Ararianna, 
he  stepped  into  a  little  "batteau,  and  a  black 
boy,  who  held  the  oars,  quickly  rowed  him 
to  the  main  land.  TTlien  lie  came  on  shore, 
the  barefooted  and  bushy-headed  children  no 
longer,  as  in  former  days,  retired  to  a  dis- 
tance, and  with  their  fingers  in  their  months, 
gazed,  in  awe-struck  silence,  at  "  the  Commo- 
dore." They  followed  him,  laughing  and 
hooting,  and,  when  the  angry  old  man  turned 
around,  and  endeavored  to  >trike  ^ome  <>t 
them  with  his  >tick,  tbev  ran  off  a  little  wav. 


WK'KCKKK  S    GKAND-CHUJ).  4> 

and  then  returned,  with  louder  laughter  than 
before. 

u  Look  at  the  old  Alligator,"  cried  one  of 
these  rude  urchins,  comparing  \ron  Ulden's 
useless  anger  to  that  of  the  animal  mentioned, 
who,  however  he  may  wish  to  turn  short  up- 
on his  pursuers,  or  his  intended  prey,  is  al- 
ways too  clumsy  to  do  so. 

Seeing  a  couple  of  women  standing  in  the 
doors  of  the  two  nearest  cottages,  Von  Ulden 
began  to  scold  them  for  allowing  their  child- 
ren to  be  so  insolent,  but  they  in  return, 
scolded  him  with  such  shrillness  and  volu- 
bility that  he  w:is  so:>n  forced  to  give  up  the 
contest.  lie  then  addressed  himself  to  some 
of  the  men,  who  were  lounging  about,  smok- 
ing their  pipes,  and,  in  a  harsh,  imperious 
manner,  demanded  to  know  why  it  was  that 
he  had  not  seen  anything  of  them  for  so  long  ? 
But  the  wreckers  only  turned  him  into  ridi- 


46 

cule,  and  laughed  at  his  assumed  authority 
over  them. 

•*  Xoiie  of  your  tantrums,  OoHimodore," 
said  one  fellow, — "you've  got  to  he  an  old 
broken  up  hulk,  now.  and  lit  for  nothing  hut 
fire- wood." 

"  \  es,"  added  another,  "we've  cut  you 
adrift  now.  Dad,  and  you  may  as  well  float 
along  (jiiietly,  until  your  crazy  timbers  land 
in  Davy  Jones's  locker  !" 

Von  Ulden  found  that  to  threaten  and  de- 
nounce these  ruffians  only  increased  their 
contemptuous  mirth,  and  he  was  perfectly 
helpless  to  avenge  himself.  He  turned  away, 
and  hobbled  to  his  boat  again,  while  some  of 
the  children,  encouraged  by  the  insolence  of 
their  parents,  pelted  him  with  hand-fulls  of 
sand. 

When  Von  Ulden  returned  home,  he  threw 
himself  into  an  arm-chair,  and  hi>  long  gray 


WRECKER'S  <;  HAND-CHILD.  47 

beard  flowed  down  over  his  breast,  as  lie 
dropped  his  head  forward,  in  utter  abandon- 
ment to  misery.  Not  one  ray  of  the  divine 
philosophy  of  the  Gospel  was  there,  to  soothe 
and  control  the  unutterable  tortures  of  a 
fierce  and  haughty  spirit,  suffering  under  a 
foul  insult,  for  which  it  is  utterly  powerless 
to  obtain  any  redress.  Yet  Yon  Ulden  would 
not,  for  a  moment,  entertain  the  thought  that 
.all  this  shame,  and  wretchedness,  and  deso- 
lation, were  the  fruits  of  his  own  conduct. 
lie  had  chosen  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  the 
wicked,  and  here  was  the  natural  result. 

Marianna  was  too  intelligent  and  observ- 
ing a  girl  not  to  surmise,  pretty  clearly,  the 
cause  of  her  grandfa therms  present  distress. 
"  What  a  pity,  what  a  sorrowful  pity,  it  is, 
that  he  ever  had  anything  to  do  with  these 
men,"  she  thought  to  herself ;  but  she  dared 
not  say  so,  lest  Yon  Ulden  should  consider 


4-8  WBECKEK'S  GUANO-CHILD. 

it,  as  a  hint  that  he  himself  was  to  hlamefor 
his  sad  situation.  She  longed  to  say  some- 
thing that  would  comfort  him,  hut  there  was 
in  his  disposition  so  much  that  she  could  not 
understand,  and  so  much  that  she  feared,  as 
to  render  the  task  a  difficult  one  indeed. 

Presently,  she  approached  him  timidly, 
and,  in  the  softest  of  her  soft  tones  said, 
"  Grandpapa,  I'm  sure  it  would  make  you 
feel  better  if  you  were  to  pray  a  little." 

Yon  Ulden.  at  this  suggestion,  felt  very 
much  like  a  criminal  who,  when  his  guilt  is 
detected  and  he  tries  to  seek  safety  in  flight 
and  concealment,  is  advised  by  some  friend 
to  take  shelter  in  a  court  of  justice.  He 
raised  his  head,  stared  at  Marianna  with 
angry  astonishment,  and  then  uttered  a  curse 
upon  her  "  folly." 

"Begone  from    my    sight,  this    moment/' 


4"J 

said  lie,  "  and  learn  better  than  to  aggravate 
my  troubles  by  your  impudent  advice  !" 

There  was  nothing  left  for  poor  Marianna 
except  sadly  to  retire  from  the  apartment, 
and  then,  in  solitude,  to  pray  for  him  who 
thus  obdurately  refused  to  seek  God's  mercy 
for  himself.  She  did  not  pray  that  the 
wreckers  might  be  led  to  treat  her  grand- 
father differently,  or  that  he  might  be  given 
the  strength  and  fortitude  of  mind  not  to 
trouble  himself  about  their  contemptuous 
treatment.  All  her  supplication  on  his  ac- 
{•omit  were  for  this  one  thing — that  the  Lord 
would  so  open  her  grand-father's  eyes,  and 
touch  his  heart,  that  he  might  have  no  grief 
except  for  his  past  sins,  and  might  long  for 
no  gain  except  those  riches  of  God  which  are 
laid  up  in  Christ  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A    STRANGER    INTRODUCED,     AND    HOW    HE    GOT 
INTO    TROUBLE. 

/y  fCT  might  certainly  seem  that,  after 
\lyPft  Naomi's  death,  Marianna  was  left  in 
^fefl  a  very  lonesome  and  melancholy  con- 
dition ;  and  so,  indeed  it  would  have  been, 
but  for  one  source  of  comfort,  which  could 
never  die.  Marianna  could  not  tell  the  exact 
hour  when  she  became  a  Christian,  for,  by 
the  teachings  of  her  good  nurse,  the  name  of 
Jesus  was  blended  with  her  earliest  recollec- 
tions. As  she  grew  older,  and  more  thought- 
ful, she  felt  a  warmer  appreciation  of  his 
wondrous  love,  and  a  deeper  conviction  of 
her  need  of  the  Saviour.  Having  so  little 
of  human  companionship,  she  came  to  hear,, 
with  wonderful  distinctness,  the  voice  of 

51 


O2  WKKCKKK  S    GKAMM'HILI). 

God  conversing  with  her  soul,  both  through 
the  pages  of  the  Bible,  and  the  scenes  of 
nature.  II  IT  pleasures  were  pure  and  sinq  le. 
and  she  knew  nothing  of  the  feverish  excite- 
ments, or  the  perilous  temptations,  of  thea- 
tres and  ball-rooms.  AVhile  attending  to  her 
flowers,  feeding  her  birds,  or  rambling  along 
the  sea-beach,  nothing  could  be  more  natural 
than  that  thoughts  of  grateful  devotion 
should  arise  in  her  heart,  and  bring  with 
them  some  foretaste  of  the  joys  of  Heaven. 
Xor  did  Marianna'slife  lack  the  two  element.- 
of  usefulness  and  self •  sacrifice  which  serve 
both  to  show  the  existence  of  true  Chris- 
tianity in  the  soul,  and  to  promote  its  growth 
there.  There  was  ample  room  for  the  exer- 
cise of  these  qualities  in  attending  to  her 
grand-father's  comfort,  bearing  with  his 
peevishness,  and  endeavoring  to  soothe  the 
gloom  and  irritation  of  his  mind. 


WRECK KRS    GRAND-CHILD.  OO 

Of  course,  she  greatly  missed  her  good 
nurse,  and  in  order  to  give  new  employment 
to  her  thoughts,  she  went  about  the  house 
arranging  almost  everything  which  it  con- 
tained and  which  she  was  able  to  move. 
While  so  doing,  she  found  some  old  books 
^towed  away  in  an  obscure  closet,  and  eagerly 
examined  them  ;  for  she  had  never  yet  seen 
any  printed  volume  except  a  Bible,  a  hymn 
book,  and  an  arithmetic. 

The  books  which  she  discovered  were  a 
large  and  handsomely  illustrated  geography, 
and  three  or  four  works  upon  ancient  and 
modern  history.  Every  word  in  each  one 
of  these  volumes  was  intently  studied  and 
eagerly  devoured  by  her,  for  she  longed  to 
know  something  about  those  mysterious  lands 
which  formed  the  other  shore  of  that  broad 
ocean  upon  which,  each  day,  her  gaze  was 
accustomed  to  rest.  My  young  readers  who 
5* 


54  WBBCKKK'S  (.KAXD-CHILD. 

are  blessed  with  so  many  advantages,  will 
doubtless  smile  at  the  island-giiT>  simplicity  : 
but,  in  studying  these  books,  she  felt  a> 
though  she  was  drinking  in  knowledge  at  a 
thousand  inlets,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she 
could  feel  the  scales  of  ignorance  falling 
from  her  eve-. 

No  new-found  treasure^  however,  could 
lessen  her  love  for  the  oldest,  truest,  sweetest 
book  of  all.  On  a  certain  memorable  day 
she  took  her  Bible  and  went  down  to  the 
shore.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  her 
grand-father  was  lying  down,  inclined  to 
sleep  away  as  much  as  possible  of  the  time 
which  hung  heavily  upon  his  hand.-.  Mar- 
ianna  took  her  seat  upon  a  fragment  of  rock 
close  to  the  pebbly  strand,  and  shaded  by  the 
drooping  branches  of  a  magnificent  willow 
tree.  If  she  turned  her  head  to  the  right 
or  left,  she  saw  the  calm  and  bright  expanse 


JVBECKEK'H  GRAND-CHILI*.  55 

of  ocean,  spreading  away  to  the  very  horizon, 
while  the  little  island  rested  upon  its  azure 
bosom  like  a  tiny  cloud  amidst  the  clear  blue 
of  heaven.  Looking  straight  ahead,  she  saw 
the  adjacent  main-land,  stretching  out  its 
long  line  of  sea  beach,  covered  with  sand  of 
such  dazzling  whiteness,  that  it  attracts  the 
attention  of  every  stranger  who  approaches 
the  coast  of  Florida. 

A  little  farther  back,  there  were  scattered, 
here  and  there,  the  rude  cottages  of  the 
wreckers,  and  beyond  these  again  appeared 
trees  and  bushes,  rich  green  grass  and  little 
patches  of  cultivated  ground.  Marianna  was 
just  near  enough  to  see  distinctly  the  wreck- 
ers themselves,  some  of  whom  were  idling 
along  the  beach,  some  repairing  or  examin- 
ing their  little  boats,  and  others  spreading 
their  fishing  nets  out  in  the  'sun.  After 
gazing  upon  this  scene  for  a  short  time,  she 


56  WRECKER'S  (.RAND-CHILI). 

opened  her  book,  and  gave  her  whole  atten- 
tion to  its  contents.  She  had  not  read  very 
long  when  a  lond  yet  cheerful  female  voice 
was  heard;  "Halloo,  Miss  Marianna  !— • 
Fond  of  reading,  ain't  you  {  AVell,  it  may 
be  pretty  work  for  them  that  understands  it." 

A  small  boat  was  approaching  the  shore, 
rowed  by  a  stoutly  built  young  woman,  with 
a  sun-burnt,  but  good-humored  and  rather 
handsome  countenance.  As  she  spoke,  she 
touched  the  island  shore  and  laying  down 
one  of  her  oars,  held  up  a  string  of  tine  lish. 

"  (rood  afternoon,  Mrs.  Clarke  ;  I  see  you 
have  got  some  nice  iish  for  us  as  usual "  said 
Marianna,  smiling. 

"Yes,  but  don't  pay  me  for  'em  now;  I 
want  to  have  something  in  bank,  to  get 
Christmas  presents  for  my  husband  and  the 
young  ones.  *  Did  you  hear  the  news  to-day, 


WKKC'KKK  S    (.KAMM'IIIM).  ,+l 

about  tliat  yacht  and  them  that  were  on 
board  of  her  f ' 

'"No,"  answered  Marianna,  "we  have  not 
heard  anything  new.  Did  the  yacht  strike 
on  a  reef  f 

"  ^s  o,  bless  you,  the  pilot  had  to  run  her 
ashore,  on  purpose  !" 

"  Why,  what  was  the  matter  ?" 

"  Well,  it  seems  that  the  four  sailors  who 
were  the  crew  of  this  yacht,  had  agreed  to 
mutiny,  and  take  the  vessel,  but  the  cabin 
boy  let  out  all  about  it  to  the  owner  and  com- 
mander, Lieutenant  Ferrand.  So  the  Lieu- 
tenant fastened  three  of  the  men  down  in 
the  hold,  and  held  a  pistol  to  the  other  one's 
head,  and  made  him  run  the  yacht  ashore, 
right  here.  The  Lieutenant,  the  pilot  and 
the  cabin  boy,  got  safely  through  the  breakers, 
but  the  three  men  in  the  hold  were  drowned. 


•>s  WRECKER  S    (rRAM)-CIIII.I). 

"Oh,  dreadful!"  exclaims!  Mariann;?. 
u  Would  no  one  save  them  ?" 

"AVhy,  YOU  see,  our  men  were  so  busy 
picking  up  things  that  had  been  washed  over- 
board, and  were  floating  around,  that  they 
hadn't  time  to  listen  to  Lieutenant  Ferrand. 
He,  as  soon  as  he  got  breath  and  strength 
enough,  after  getting  to  shore,  shouted  to 
them  to  save  the  three  sailors  down  in  the 
hold  ;  but,  as  I  said,  our  men  did'nt  stop  to 
pay  any  attention  to  him.  AVhen  they  went 
on  board  the  half-sunk  vessel  to  see  what 
they  could  find  there,  they  came  across  the 
three  drowned  bodies.  My  husband  got 
this  silver  ring  from  the  finger  of  one  of 
them." 

Marianna  looked  at  the  speaker  with 
painful  wonder,  and  then  to  change  the  sub- 
ject, said,  "  I  am  glad  that  there  were  three 
saved,  anyhow." 


WRECKEK'S  GRAND-CHILD.  59 

'"Well,  that's  the  queerest  part  of  it,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Clark,  unconscious  of  her  listen- 
er's emotions  at  what  she  had  just  heard. 

"  The  man  they  had  had  for  a  pilot  turned 
out  to  be  Jack  Ross,  who  lived  here  for  so 
long,  and  only  went  away  six  or  eight  months 
ago.  Ross  always  was  one  of  the  hardest 
cases  around  here.  Among  the  things  that 
were  saved  out  of  the  water  was  Lieutenant 
Ferrand's  chest  with  all  his  money  in  it,  and 
all  his  clothes,  except  what  he-had  on.  Ross 
said  lie  must  have  that,  "because,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  his  getting  up  the  mutiny,  the  yacht 
wouldn't  have  been  run  ashore  here  at  all, 
and  our  men  wouldn't  have  had  any  pickings 
off  of  her.  But  Ferrand  himself  stepped  up, 
and  drew  a  pistol,  and  said  the  chest  was  hi  , 
and  whoever  meddled  with  it,  would  do  so 
at  his  peril.  Then  Ross  jumped  on  him  as 
if  he'd  tear  him  to  pieces,  and  when  the 


*'•<•  WKKCKKR'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Lieutenant  found  that  Ross  would  get  the 
1  test  of  him,  he  just  shot  Jack  with  the  pistol 
that  he  had  in  his  hand.  Ross  dropped  like 
a  stone,  and  was  dead  in  a  minute.  Does  it 
scare  you  to  hear  such  things,  Miss  Marian- 
na  \  you  look  pale." 

"  It  was  an  awful  way  to  die  !"  sighed  Mar- 
ianna. 

"  Yes,  and  our  men  were  awful  mad  about 
having  an  old  comrade  killed  that  way. 
They  were  going  to  hang  Ferrand  to  the 
nearest  tree,  and  had  got  a  rope  ready  noosed, 
when  the  cabin  boy  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
begged  them  to  stop.  That  just  struck  them 
dumb,  for  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  this  boy 
was  Jack  Ross's  own  son  Hugh  !  While 
they  were  wondering  what  next,  old  Giles 
came  up,  and  he  too  thought  the  b<  >y  acted 
very  strange  considering  Ferrand  had  just 
shot  his  father ;  but  to  hear  how  the  young 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  61 

scamp  cried  and  begged,  you'd  have  thought 
it  was  a  father's  life  he  was  pleading  for. 
Old  Giles  is  always  for  going  slow  and  #u/r, 
and  so  he  persuaded  them  to  keep  Lieutenant 
Ferraiid  shut  up  in  an  empty  hut  until  to- 
morrow morning,  and  let  our  men  all  talk 
the  matter  over,  this  evening,  and  make  up 
their  minds  what  to  do  with  him.  But, 
Laws ! — how  long  I've  been  stopping  to  talk  ! 
I  m;ist  hurry  home,  now,  and  get  my  hus- 
band's supper. — Good  bye,  Miss  Marianna." 
Marianna  leaned  her  arm  upon  her  Bible, 
and  her  head  upon  her  hand.  She  cast  her 
eyes  across  the  same  beautiful  prospect  of 
ocean  and  land  which  she  had  viewed  with 
so  much  satisfaction,  scarcely  half  an  hour 
before, — but  a  cloud  now  seemed  to  rest  up- 
on its  charms.  There  was  the  same  blight 
that  came  upon  the  bloom  of  Eden  after  the 
fall  of  man  ; — there  was  the  darkening  and 


152  WRK.rKKR  S    ( i  RA  NIM'IITLD. 

oppressive  shade  of  sin  !  AVe  cannot  wonder 
that,  on  contrasting  (rod's  works  w!th  man's 
wavs,  the  infidel  Rousseau  exclaimed,  "  In- 
quire no  longer,  man,  who  is  the  author  of 
evil.- — behold  him  in  yourself! — Take  away 
all  that  is  the  work  of  man,  and  all  the  rest 
i>  good."  In  thinking  over  what  she  had 
just  heard  from  Mrs.  Clark,  Marianna's  re- 
flection.-, were,  "  God  has  filled  this  place 
with  warmth,  brightness,  beauty,  and  per- 
fume. Human  beings  have  filled  it  with 
strife  and  miserVj  wickedness  ;;nd  horror! 
I  hit  how  different  would  things  h^,  if  ;iil  or 
most  of  those  here  had,  hv  faith  in  Jesus,  re- 
ceived  from  the  Holy  Spirit  the  gift  of  a  new 
heart  !" 

It  will  he  rememhered  that  "Mariauna  had 
never  lived  in,  nor  even  >eeii,  a  really  Chris- 
tian community, — one  where  the  Bible  is 
read,  public  worship  is  held,  and  the  pro- 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  f>3 

fessed  followers  of  the  Saviour  dwell.  But 
her  Testament  clearly  taught  her  that  "  The 
fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long- 
suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meek- 
ness, temperance."  She  knew  that  each  a 
scene  of  heartlessness,  plunder  and  violence, 
as  she  had  just  heard  described,  could  never 
occur  among  those  whose  souls  were  filled 
with  Christian  charity  and  Christian  love. 

Then  came  the  thought,  "  Can  the  religion 
of  Jesus  ever  become  generally  known  and 
loved  in  this  place  ?"  To  Marianna  it  did 
not  appear  that  such  a  thing  was  impossible, 
for  here,  again,  from  the  pages  of  her  Testa- 
ment came  a  silent  reply,  telling  her  that  the 
power  of  God  had  done  even  greater  things 
than  this.  But,  as  to  the  manner  in  which 
such  a  wonderful  change  might  be  effected, 
she  could  not  even  form  a  surmise.  She 
could  not  imagine  that  it  would  be  in  any 


64 

degree  owinu:  to  such  a  feeble  instrument  us 
hcr-elf.  "Marianna  had  no  idea  that  these 
tilings  of  which  >he  had  just  heard — this 
plundered  vessel,  this  slaughtered  man,  this 
unfortunate  prisoner,  this  son  pleading  for  the 
slaver  of  his  father, — were  hut  the  first  links 
i;i  a  chain  of  incidents  which  should  make 
plain  to  her  the  way  in  which  she  was  to 
work  for  Jesus  among  the  wreckers  of 
Florida. 

Here  we  will  leave  Marianna,  for  awhile, 
to  her  thoughtful  musings,  while  we  sketch 
the  portraits  of  the  ne\v  characters  just  in- 
troduced. Cuildren,  and  ignorant  people  ot 
all  a g«-.  judge  of  things  chiefly  by  their  out- 
side appearance; — and,  no  doubt,  this  had 
something  to  do  with  the  idolatry,  ('for  it  was 
nothing  le».)  of  young  Hugh  lioss,  towards 
his  late  commander,  Liemenant  yerrand.  It 
had  also  some  influence  upon  the  minds  of 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  t>5 

the  wreckers, — though  even  they  would  have 
been  ashamed  to  confess  such  a  weakness. 

Francis  Ferrand  had  lived  thirty-three 
years,  hut,  (except  his  faithful  term  in  the 
Navy)  not  to  do  much  service.  II  is  personal 
appearance  was  unusually  interesting.  His 
fine  features  bore  an  expression  of  more  than 
ordinary  intelligence,  combined  with  frank- 
ness and  sincerity  of  disposition,  and  they 
were  lighted  up  by  a  pair  of  bright,  pene- 
trating eyes. 

It  may  easily  be  judged  that  now,  as  he 
laid  himself  down  upon  a  rude  wooden  bench 
in  the  otherwise  unfurnished  hut,  he  did  not 
look  quite  as  usual.  His  thick  dark  hair,  and 
even  his  moustache,  were  still  damp  with  sea- 
water;  and  the  light  brown,  with  which  a 
sailor's  life  had  overspread  his  complexion, 
had  given  way  to  a  paleness  which  showed 
that  neither  mind  nor  body  were  well.  His 
6* 


head  ached  from  a  blow  which  one  of  the 
wreckers  had  given  him  with  an  oar-blade, 
immediately  after  the  shooting  of  Ross,  and 
his  heart  ached  from  several  different  causes. 
lie  knew  that  his  life  was  in  great  peril  from 
the  ruffians  who  had  him  completely  in  their 
power  ;  and  lie  had  awaiting  him  at  home,  a 
lovely  and  amiable  young  wife  and  an  infant 
daughter.  These  dear  and  helpless  creatures 
would,  by  his  death,  be  left  without  any  de- 
pendence, except  upon  the  charity  of  others, 
for  Ferrand,  though  born  to  a  large  fortune, 
had,  long  since,  got  rid  of  it.  His  habits 
had  not  been  exactly  vicious,  though  blame- 
ably  extravagant,  and  his  unbounded  gener- 
osity, while  it  really  did  good  to  many  a  de- 
serving object,  was  often  used  by  base  and 
dishonest  persons,  to  their  own  advantage. 
Now,  he  could  not  leave  his  family  enough 
to  support  them  for  a  year, — but  this  thought 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  67 

was  not  needed  to  give  bitterness  to  the  idea 
of  never  seeing  them  again. 

It  was  a  painful  reflection  too,  that  this  un- 
lucky voyage  had  obliged  him,  without  in- 
tending it,  to  cause  the  death  of  all  four  of 
the  men  who  had  composed  the  crew  of  his 
yacht.  The  yacht  itself,  which  the  wreckers 
were  then  plundering, — was  the  last  and 
most  cherished  fragment  of  former  wealth 
and  luxury,  but  Ferrand  did  not  think  of 
that. 

Hugh  Ross  took  the  first  opportunity  of 
.speaking  aside  with  old  Giles,  and  requesting 
that  he  might  be  allowed  to  carry  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  a  dry  suit  of  clothes  from  his  chest. 
This  was  willingly  granted,  and  Giles  con- 
trived that  Hugh  should  take  the  clothes 
without  being  seen  by  any  of  the  other 
wreckers. 

When  Hugh  entered  the  hut  where  Lieu- 


<;^  WRECKER'S  <,  HAND-CHILD. 

tenant  Ferrand  was  confined,  lie  found  him 
>tri'tched  upon  the  rough  wooden  bench,  as 
we  have  described.  His  eyes  were  cL'-'-K 
one  arm  was  beneath  his  head,  and  the  other 
hand  rested  upon  the  back  of  the  bench. 
Hitherto,  Hugh  had  seen  him  unconquerably 
active,  lively  and  hopeful.  He  had  seen  him 
surrounded  by  men  who  were  obliged  to 
treat  him  with  the  utmost  deference,  and  to 
ol  >(.' v  every  word  that  he  uttered.  Xow,  IK  >\v 
forlorn,  melancholy  and  helpless  was  his  sit- 
uation ! 

Tears  tilled  the  boy's  eyes ; — lie  approached 
softly,  took  the  hand  that  rested  upon  the 
bench-back,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand  immediately  unclosed  his 
eyes,  and  was  not  surprised  at  seeing  Hugh, 
for  he  had  recognized  his  cabin-boy's  step  as 
soon  as  he  entered.  But — for  reasons  which 
the  reader  will  soon  understand — he  felt  as 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  69 

though  he  would  rather  not  look  at  him. 
However,  the  Lieutenant  was  surprised  by 
Hugh's  action,  and  gazed  at  him  in  silence 
for  a  moment  or  two,  while  three  or  four  dif- 
ferent expressions  passed,  by  turns,  over  his 
countenance.  He  then  said,  in  a  tone  of  re- 
buke, "  Boy,  did  you  not  see  your  father  fall 
by  my  hand,  not  more  than  an  hour  ago  ?" 

Hugh  became  of  a  deathly  paleness,  and 
answered  in  a  choked  voice,  "  Yes  sir, — but 
I  know  you  could'nt  help  it." 

"Very  true,"  replied  Ferrand,  with  no 
less  sterness  than  before,  "  but,  whatever  his 
character  may  have  been,  John  Ross  was 
still  your  father ',  and  it  does  not  become  you 
to  kiss  the  hand  that  killed  him." 

So  pointed  and  unexpected  a  rebuke  from 
such  a  quarter,  completely  destroyed  what 
yet  remained  of  Hugh's  self-possession.  He 
hastily  laid  the  bundle  of  clothing  down  at 


70  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Lieutenant  Ferrand's  feet,  then  turned  away, 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and,  sobbing 
convulsively,  left  the  hut.  As  soon  as  he 
could  regain  enough  outward  calmness,  he 
repaired  to  the  cottage  of  old  Giles,  where 
the  wreckers  were  now  assembling,  to  decide 
the  question  of  their  prisoner's  life  <>r  death. 
Samuel  Giles  was  the  oldest  man  in  the 
wrecker  community,  but  at  the  age  of  sixty, 
he  was  still  strong  and  active.  During  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  he  had  been  a  sailor 
in  the  V.  S.  Navy,  and  had  borne  a  good 
character.  Hut  the  temptations  of  bad  com- 
pany and  bad  example  at  length  overcame 
him,  and  brought  him  to  adopt  a  wrecker's, 
calling.  As  Giles  always  dealt  tairly  by 
!iis  comrades,  and  was  never  known  to  break 
his  word,  the  other  wreckers  felt  as  much 
respect  for  him  as  such  men  could  feel  for 
«»ne  of  their  own  crew,  and  they  had  lately 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  71 

urged  him  to  become  their  head,  or  "  Com- 
modore," in  the  place  of  Yon  Ulden.  But 
Giles  was  the  son  of  pious,  though  humble 
parents,  and  would  doubtless  have  become  a 
Christian  himself,  if  he  had  not,  when  a 
mere  youth,  forsaken  his  home  and  its  influ- 
ences, to  run  away  to  sea.  Often,  now,  when 
engaged  with  his  fellow-wreckers  in  some 
act  of  heartless  robbery,  there  would  flash 
across  Giles'  mind  the  remembrance  of  a 
mothers'  prayers  and  a  father's  godly  coun- 
sels, and  his  stalwart  frame  shivered  at  the 
fear  of  a  judgment  to  come.  Yet  this  man, 
who  had  faced  so  many  dangers,  had  not  the 
moral  courage  to  say  anything  against  the 
lawless  conduct  of  his  associates,  or  to  de- 
cline following  the  same  mode  of  life.  He 
therefore  made  all  sorts  of  feigned  excuses 
f  >r  not  taking  the  leadership  of  the  wreckers, 
and  cherished  in  his  heart  the  delusive  hope 


<1>  \VIM.<  KKU  >   <,  I;AM>-<  MILD. 

that  Clod  would  be  bribed  by  this  piece  of 
self-denial,  to  overlook  his  daily  transgres- 
sions. 


CHAPTER   V. 

II  Hill's    STOKY. MAKIAXNA    IS   SENT    WITH    AN 

UNPLEASANT  MESSAGE. 

one  crime  naturally  leads  to  anoth- 
er, those  wreckers  who  had  appro- 
priated the  largest  share  of  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand's  property  were  now  anxious  to 
have  him  put  to  death.  The  pretext  which 
they  gave  for  this  was  a  desire  to  avenge  the 
death  of  John  Ross,  but  every  one  knew  that 
they  really  opposed  Ferrand's  being  set  at 
liberty  because  they  feared  that  he  might 
bring  them  into  trouble  for  their  acts  of  rob- 
bery. Hugh  Ross  listened,  with  anxious 
emotion,  to  the  hardened  and  merciless 
speeches  now  made  by  these  men,  one  of 
whom  concluded  his  argument  by  saying, 

(73) 


74  WRECKER'S    -RANL>-CHILI>. 

-.lack   Uo.-^  -.vas  one  of  ourselves,— as  you 

may  siv, — but  who  knows  or  cares  anything 
about  ///./'*  chap '" 

M  /  do,"  boldly  answered  Hugh. 

"  \Vell,"1  rejoined  the  preceding  speaker, 
"you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  to  say 
M>1  If  7  had  a  son  that  would' nt  avenge 
my  death,  nor  even  want  it  avenged,  I'd 
break  every  bone  in  his  body  I" 

"  Xever  mind,'"  observed  old  Giles,  "  talk- 
ing don't  cost  anything,  nor  listening,  neither. 
So,  go  on,  Hugh,  and  say  all  that  you  want 
to." 

The  wreckers  did  not  require  any  intro- 
duction to  tell  them  who  this  boy  was.  His 
history  is  briefly  this: 

John  Ross  and  his  wife  had  always  been 
noted  in  their  community  as  a  quarrelsome 
and  disorderly  couple,  and  both  were  fre- 
quently known  to  be  intoxicated.  Their 


WRECKERS    (-RAND-CHILD.  (^ 

eldest  son  had  been  killed  in  a  dispute  with 
another  wrecker,  and  the  second  was  drowned 
while  endeavoring  -  to  secure  his  share  of 
plunder  from  a  sinking  vessel.  But  these 
losses  did  not  render  Hugh's  parents  any 
more  gentle  and  affectionate  towards  their 
surviving  child.  Mrs.  Hoss, — as  might  have 
been  expected  from  such  a  woman,  possessed 
very  little  tender  feeling,  but  what  natural 
affection  she  had,  was  often  roused  to  protect 
her  child  from  the  brutal  ill-treatment  of 
Ross.  He  was  surly  and  disagreeable,  and, 
when  anything  provoked  him,  lie  yielded  to 
every  suggestion  that  the  author  of  mischief 
could  breathe  into  u  wicked  heart. 

Hugh  knew  no  more  about  books  and 
learning  than  do  the  sparrow's  young,  or 
the  fox's  cubs ;  and  what  is  far  worse,  he 
knew  nothing  at  all  about  religion.  He  had 
never  seen  a  Bible, — never  uttered  <>r  heard 


7l*.  WRW-KEK  S      GRAND-CHILD. 

uttered    a   prayer,  and    knew   his   Creator's 

name  onlv  from  bearing  it  in  oaths  and  ciirso. 
Thus,  until  lie  was  twelve  years  old,  Hugh 
had  led  a  life  which  might  very  well  have 
been  compared  to  that  of  a  neglected  and 
ill-treated  dog.  At  the  age  of  twelve,  he 
lost  his  mother,  and  this  would  have  made 
his  condition  worse  than  ever,  if  some  of  his 
mother's  relations,  who  were  decent  people, 
residing  in  Tallahassee,  had  not  accidentally 
heard  of  his  miserable  situation.  1 1  is  father 
made  not  the  slightest  objection  to  letting 
him  go  to  Tallahassee  ;  indeed,  he  wa.-  glad 
to  get  rid  of  him.  By  means  which  we  need 
not  stop  to  relate,  his  mothers  relatives  con- 
trived to  have  Hugh  placed  on  board  of  a 
man-of-war,  as  one  of  the  ship's  boy? ;  and, 
for  three  \  e:ir>  past,  nothing  had  been  seen 
or  heard  <>{  him  by  the  wrecker  community. 
"When  he  let'l  that  eommnnitv,  Ilu^h  was  :i 


WRECKER'S  OKAND-OTIILD.  77 

thin  puny,  half-starved  child  ; — but  he  now 
appeared  as  a  stout,  ruddy-cheeked  boy, 
with  the  resolute  look  of  one  who  had  be- 
come accustomed  to  thinking  and  acting  for 
himself. 

On  Giles  now  giving  him  leave  to  speak, 
Hugh  proceeded,  as  concisely  as  he  could,  to 
relate  his  own  history,  since  leaving  Florida. 

During  his  first  voyage  on  a  man-of-war, 
nothing  had  made  such  an  impression  on  his 
mind  as  the  great  social  distance  between  the 
naval  officers  and  tho.se  who,  like  himself, 
held  the  humblest  positions  on  board.  It 
seemed  to  him,  at  first,  the  natural  and 
proper  state  of  things  for  those  grand  gen- 
tlemen in  blue  broadcloth  and  gilt  buttons, 
to  act  imperiously  and  insolently  towards 
the  poor,  "  common,"  human  beings  who  ap- 
peared to  have  no  mission  in  life  except  to 
obey  their  orders.  But  soon,  he  noticed  that 


78  WRECKER'S  UKANIM-HILI*. 

one  of  these  gentlemen,  and  that  one,  the 
most  elegant,  and  truly  dignified  of  them  all, 
never  >wore,  nor  vociferated,  nor  used  rough 
or  a !  nisi  ve  language.  Lieutenant  Ferrand 
became,  at  once,  the  poor  sailor  boy's  ideal 
of  human  perfection  ;  and  he  even  had  the 
daring  ambition,  (as  it  seemed  to  himself,)  to 
''wish  that  his  "Maker  had  made  hint,  such  a 
man." 

One  day,  while  talking  with  a  b»>v  who 
was  his  intimate  associate,  Hugh  thoughtfully 
observed,  "  I  wonder  if  a  boy  that  has  been 
brought  up  like  me,  could  ever  get  to  be  a 
real  gentleman  ?" 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  overheard  this  remark, 
and  was  pleased  with  the  spirit  of  it.  "My 
lad,1'  said  lie  to  Hugh,  "if  you  ever  wish  to 
raise  yourself,  you  must  begin  by  trying  to 
know  nior  .•  than  vou  do  now."* 

Hugh    caught    eagerly  at   this    -ug^estioil, 


WKECKEE'S  GKAND-CIIILD.  79 

'joining  from  a  source  which  he  so  highly  es- 
teemed. Encouraged  by  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 
he  learned  first  to  read  and  then  to  write, 
having  persuaded  one  of  the  ship's  boys,  who 
had  received  a  decent  education,  to  assist  him 
in  his  studies.  Ferrand  praised  Hugh's 
quickness  in  learning,  and  pointed  out  various 
needful  improvements  in  his  manners  and 
habits,  which  Hugh  adopted  with  a  prompt- 
ness that  still  farther  increased  the  Lieuten- 
ant's good  opinion  of  him.  Young  Ross  now 
became  neat  and  cleanly  in  his  appearance, 
left  oil'  .swearing,  and  the  use  of  coarse  and 
vicious  expressions,  and  gave  every  proof  of 
having  been  stimulated  to  en  ?r  upon  an 
honorable  career. 

The  three  years'  cruise  wa ,  very  nearly 
over,  when  a  sailor,  one  day,  trod  on  the 
paw  of  the  Captain's  dog,  and  made  him 
limp.  On  bcMiig  taxed  with  this  grave  of- 


N  >  \V  R  KC  K  K K  S    GRAND-CHILD. 

feiu-e,  the  man  was  frightened,  and  laid  it 
upon  Hugh.  AVithout  listening  to  the  hoy's 
denial,  the  enraged  despot  of  the  ship 
knocked  him  down,  and  kicked  and  tramp- 
led on  him  in  his  fury.  Lieutenant  Ferrand 
was  not  far  off,  and  hastening  up,  he  seized 
the  Commander  by  the  arm,  jerked  him  a  way 
from  Hugh,  and  indignantly  expressed  his 
opinion  of  the  cruelty  and  unmanliness  of 
such  conduct.  The  Captain,  who  had  always 
imagined  himself  to  be  "lord  of  all  lie  .sur- 
veyed." was  astounded  by  this  bold  interfer- 
ence', but  no  revenge  which  he  could  have 
taken  <>n  f/tc  -y>f.  was  sufficient  to  satisfy  his 
insulted  dignity.  So,  as  he  walked  away  to 
his  own  cabin,  he  merely  said  to  Ferrand 
with  a  menacing  air,  "  You  shall  be  made 
sorry  for  thi>,  MT  !" 

A  few   days  afterwards,  when    the    vessel 
entered  the  port   of  New  York,  Lieutenant 


WRKCKKB'S  G  HAND-CHILD.  81 

Fcrrand  was  put  under  arrest  and  tried  by  a 
Court  Martial  for  his  disrespect  to  his  Com- 
mander. He  made  no  attempt  to  deny  or 
explain  away  the  charge,  and  was  sentenced 
to  be  "  suspended"  for  a  long  period,  from 
the  U.  S.  service.  Immediately  after  the 
trial  was  over,  Hugh  Hoss  saw  the  Lieuten- 
ant, who  said  to  him,  with  a  smile  full  of 
lofty  feeling,  "Hugh,  I'm  not  sorry  yet  /'• 

Hugh,  however,  was  sorry  to  the  very 
soul,  in  thinking  what  a  return  he  had, 
though  innocently  and  unintentionally, — 
made  for  all  Ferrand'a  kindness  and  conde- 
scension. IIcj  too,  obtained  his  discharge 
from  the  ISTavy,  and,  for  some  time  afterwards 
picked  up  a  precarious  living  by  doing  odd 
jobs  of  work  about  the  streets  of  Xew  York 
city.  One  day,  he  accidentally  met  with 
Lieutenant  Ferrand,  who  since  his  suspen- 
sion from  the  Kavy,  had  been  doing  nothing 


SL!  WRECKERS  <-KAMMHILI>. 

in  particular.  II  is  relatives,  and  those  <»f  Li.; 
wife,  had  offered  him  the  choice  of  several 
good  situations,  in  large  mercantile  houses, 
but  he  declined  to  take  any  of  them,  as  a" 
his  early  training  and  habits  had  disqualified 
him  for  such  a  position. 

Tie  had  now  purchased  from  a  friend  the 
right  of  a  patent,  spice-grinding  machine, 
with  which  he  was  about  to  make  a  voyage 
of  speculation  to  the  West  Indies,  iiihisown 
yacht.  On  meeting  Hugh,  lie  at  once  en- 
gaged him  as  hi.-  cabin-boy,  and  then  adver- 
tised for  a  few  seamen  to  serve  as  crew. 
Among  the  men  who  presented  themselves 
was  John  Ross.  As  soon  as  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  learned  that  he  was  Hugh's  Father, 
he  accepted  him  without  asking  for  any 
other  recommendation.  Ross  evinced  no  glad- 
ne.-s,  or  emotion  of  any  kind,  at  the  unex- 
pected meeting  with  his  son,  and  Hugh's  <!<•- 


WRECKER'S  <;KAXIM;IIILT>.  83 

meaner  still  showed  the  force  of  that  habit 
which,  ever  since  infancy,  had  taught  him  to 
shun  and  to  fear  a  father's  presence. 

During  their  voyage  to  the  West  Indies. 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  treated  Hugh  with  a 
more  marked  kindness  than  ever,  as  if  to 
show  that  he  bore  no  grudge  for  the  boy's 
having  been  the  unfortunate  occasion  of  his 
suspension  from  the  Navy.  What  Hugh 
esteemed  the  greatest  favor,  was  being  al- 
lowed access  to  his  Commander's  small  but 
select  library  of  choice  books,  in  which  the 
cabin-boy  found  a  gold-mine  of  new  ideas. 

These  were  days  of  sunshine,  but  a  shadow 
was  drawing  nigh.  The  patent  spice-mill 
proved  a  failure  which  did  not  even  pay  the 
expenses  of  the  trip  ; — and  we  have  already 
seen  how  disastrously  the  homeward  voy- 
age was  interrupted.  "And  now,"  said 
Hugh,  in  conclusion,  "  I  don't  know  how 


s4  WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD. 

anybody  can  blame  me  for  not  wanting  to 
pec  Lieutenant  Ferrand  hanged.  Yon  need 
not  take  his  life  to  get  what  belongs  to  him 
either,  for  if  von  let  him  go  free,  and  he 
promises  not  to  put  yon  to  any  tn>uhl<-.  I 
can  tell  you  that  he  will  never  be  worse  than 
his  word." 

Here  Hugh  concluded  his  story,  to  which 
the  wreckers  had  listened  with  remarkable 
patience.  ^Nothing  was  said  until  each  of 
them  had  taken  another  drink  of  spirits  and 
water,  and  then  old  Giles  began  thus : 

"You've  heard  this  boy's  speech, — and 
now  hear  mine.  You  want  somebody  to  be 
your  commander,  in  place  of  Yon  ITldeii, 
but  I'm  not  the  kind  of  man  you  need. 
I'm  too  old,  and  too  stupid.  We've  all  seen 
that  Lieutenant  Ferrand  is  a  brave  man,  and 
Hugh's  story  shows  that  lie's  good-natnred 
and  whole-smiled.  IWuli'-.  1-c  knows  more 


•NviiKCKi-iu'ri  <;;JAXIM.::III;I).  85 

than  any  of  us,  or  lie  couldn't  have  held  the 
position  that  he  did,  in  the  Xavy.  I've  been 
too  long  in  the  service  myself,  not  to  have  it 
cut  pretty  deeply  into  my  mind  that  a  navy 
o  fllcer,  as  a  general  thing,  has  to  be  something 
more  than  common. — How  much  finer  Com- 
modore he  would  be  for  us  than  Yon 
Uldeii !" 

The  wreckers  were  evidently  struck  by 
this  idea,  but,  after  a  pause,  one  of  them  re- 
marked, "  There's  always  two  sides  to  a  bar- 
gain, though ;  and,  even  if  we  are  willing, 
who  knows  but  that  he  mightn't  be  ?" 

"  I  should  think  he'd  like  it  better  than 
hanging,  if  the  choice  were  put  to  him," 
said  another. 

"Yes,"  added  Giles,  "  and  just  now,  when 

he's   suspended   from   his    position    in    the 

Xavy,  and  his  speculation  in  the  West  Indies 

has  failed,  and  he  has  lost  so  much  by  coming 

8 


SO  WXBCKKR'S  <;itAxiM-;i:i,i>. 

ashore  here,  I  guess  he's  not   in  the   humor 

to  stand  much  on  ceremony.  We'll  have  a 
talk  with  him  about  it." 

Anumg  the  listeners  to  this  discussion  wa> 
a  hlack  hoy  named  Peter,  who,  every  day, 
carried  in  his  little  boat  to  Von  Ulden's  is- 
land, various  kinds  of  meat  and  vegetable.-, 
for  the  family  there  to  purchase. 

At  an  early  hour,  next  morning,  Peter  got 
into  his  boat  and  proceeded  to  the  island, 
with  M>me  provisions.  While  he  was  dis- 
posing  of  these  articles  to  the  servant  wo- 
man, the  talkative  young  trader  told  her  the 
late>t  news,  in  the  shape  of  Lieutenant  Fer- 
iMnd's  capture,  and  the  discussion  as  to 
whether  he  should  be  put  to  death,  or  ap- 
pointed "  Commodore"  of  the  wreckers. 
This  account -was  listened  to  with  intercut, 
not  only  by  the  person  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dre»ed,  but  also  by  ^Farianna  and  her  grand- 


WUKTKKU  S    <.RAM>-< Mill. I).  •>  i 

father,  who  were  sitting  at  a  couple  of  open 
windows,  enjoying  the  sweet  freshness  of  the 
morning:  air.  Marianna  was  much  relieved 

o 

in  mind  to  hear  that  the  unfortunate  stranger 
was  still  alive,  and  that  his  life  was  likely  to 
be  spared ;  but  her  grandfather  felt  galled 
beyond  endurance  at  the  very  idea  of  that 
stranger's  being  chosen  by  the  wreckers  as 
their  chief. 

It  was  plain  to  Marianna  that  he  was  fear- 
fully agitated,  but  she  could  imagine  very 
little  of  his  feelings.  Presently  he  said, 
'"  Marianna,  get  your  hat  on  and  let  Peter 
row  you  to  the  main-land.  I  have  a  message 
that  I  can  send  by  you  only." 

Marianna,  accordingly,  put  on  her  wide- 
brimmed  straw  hat,  which  every  time  that 
she  wished  to  wear  it,  was  trimmed  anew, 
by  twining  about  its  crown  a  wreath  of  fresh 
flowers,  to  which  she  sometimes  added  one 


^  Wlil-X'KKRS    GKAXD-CIIILD. 

or  two  pend.int  pieces  ol  delicate  vines.  She 
then  presented  herself  before  her  grand- 
father, to  receive  his  commands. 

Yon  I'ldeii  tried  to  speak  calmly  and  rea- 
sonably, but  he  shook  from  head  to  foot  with 
direful  emotions,  as  he 'thus,  addressed  "Ma- 
rianna  : — L"  Go  to  some  of  the  wreckers ; — tell 
them  that  Yon  Ulden  now  sends  them  the 
best  advice  that  he  ever  gave.  I  have  cer- 
tainly lived  long  enough,  and  seen  enough  of 
the 'world  to  make  my  counsel  of  some  value, 
and  these  men  were  once  glad  to  ask  for  it. 
Tell  them,  I  say  that  Yon  Uldeivs  last  ad- 
vice is,  to  hang  the  man  who  is  now  their 
prisoner." 

Mnriaima  started  back,  and  vainly  tried 
for  a  moment  or  two,  to  think  that  she  had 
misunderstood  the  old  man's  words. 

"  AVhy,  grandfather,  what  has  he  done  '." 
she  presently  inquired. 


GliAND-CHILD.  89 

"  Don't  question  me! — don't  argue  with 
ine !  cried  Yon  Ulden,  frantically,  "  Carry 
the  message  I  have  given  you." 

"  Oh,  grandfather  I — I  cannot !"  said  Ma- 
riaima,  shuddering. 

It  was  now  Yon  Ulden' s  turn  to  be  as- 
tonished, when,  for  the  first  time,  he  found 
his  will  resisted  l>y  his  gentle  and  dutiful 
grandchild.  A  look  of  agony  was  blended 
with  the  indignation  that  darkened  his  fea- 
tures, as  he  exclaimed,  "And  you,  too,  have 
turned  against  me  ! — "Now  there  is  not  one, 
— not  one  being  upon  earth  who  will  obey 
this  weak  voice,  or  fear  the  old  man's  anger ! 
You  cannot  go  indeed!  Tell  the  truth  at 
LUice,  girl,  and  s.-iy  that  yon  will  not." 

Marianna  was  silent.  Tier  good  nurse, 
Naomi,  had  always  taken  CM  re  to  impress  up- 
on her  mind  the  beauty  and  value  of  obedi- 
ence,— that  virtue  which  parents  are  most 
8* 


{)<»  WRECKKR'S  <;KAM>-CHILD. 

delighted  toiind  in  their  children  ;  and  which 
is  the  most  pleasing  tribute  that  our  heaven- 
ly Father  can  receive  from  his  creatures, 

» 

-hire  it  affords  the  sweetest  proof  of  a. true 
faith  in  Him.  Disobedience  to  parents  is 
now  fully  admitted  to  be  that  sin  which  more 
than  all  others  put  together,  leads  young 
people  to  wretchedness  and  ruin.  It  wa> 
the  crime  of  disobedience  committed  by  the 
tirst  of  human  race  that  "brought  Death  in- 
to the  world,  and  all  our  woe  !" 


CHAPTER   VI. 

MAKIANNA    OBEYS    I1EK     GRANDFATHER^     COM- 
MANDS.  LIEUTENANT  EERKAND    MAKES    A 

TERRIBLE     MISTAKE. CONVERSATION 

BETWEEN  HUGH  AND  MARIANNA. 

Alii  ANN  A  was  now  in  one  of  these 
^perplexing  situations  in  which  it 
•  seined  impossible  to  escape  something 
very  disagreeable.  Her  greatest  anxiety 
was  to  choose,  not  the  most  pleasant  course, 
but  that  which  was  strictly  the  right  one. 
Her  conclusion  was,  u  I  will  obey  my  grand- 
father, arid,  at  the  same  time,  beseech  God 
to  preserve  me  from  causing  the  wreckers  to 
commit  another  crime,  and  this  poor  stranger 
to  loose  his  life." 

It  was  a  strengthening  thought,  and  Ma- 
rianna  was  now  enabled  to  answer  with  out- 


92  WKKCKKU'S    (rUAMM   HIM). 

ward    raininess,  "  Forgive  me,  grandfather; 
I  will  go." 

"  A ii-l  you  will  really  carry  the  message  1 
have  given  you  C"  said  Von  Ulden,  in'»t  know- 
ing how  t<>  account  for  her  sudden  change  of 
manner. 

"  Yi-s  sir."  answered  Marianna,  looking 
into  her  grandfather's  face,  while  lie  scanned 
her  countenance  with  a  searching  eye.  Von 
Vlden  had  never  known  hi.-  granddaughter 
to  he  guilty  of  falsehood  <;r  deception,  and 
harsh  and  s:i>picioiis  as  he  was, — he  felt  that 
he  had  no  right  to  douht  her  now.  Accord- 
ingly he  said  only,  "  (TO  then."  and  Marian- 
na departed. 

She  took  a  seat  in  Peter" >  little  boat,  and 
while  the  lu»y  was  rowing  her  towards  the 
mainland,  her  heart  was  lifted  up  to  (rod  in 
silent  prayer.  She  soon  stepped  on  shore, 
with  a  resolution  to  deliver  her  me.-'sa^e 


WRECKERS  I;KANI>-CHILI>.  96 

only  to  Giles,  whom  she  had  discovered  to 
be  more  human  than  the  other  wreckers,  and 
who,  therefore,  would  he  less  likely  to  take 
the  advice  which  she  unwillingly  conveyed. 

As  Marianna  had  no  share  in  her  grand- 
father's unpopularity,  she  met  with  no  un- 
pleasant demonstrations,  upon  landing.  On 
the  contrary,  the  men  touched  their  hats  as 
she  passed  them,  and  one  of  the  wrecker's 
wives,  meeting  her  with  a  smile,  said,  u  Well, 
my  pretty  little  lady,  can  any  one  here  do 
anything  for  you  ?" 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am  ; — I  should  like  to 
say  something  to  Mr.  Giles,  if  he  is  here," 
replied  Marianna. 

The  woman  showed  her  where  Giles  was 
standing,  just  outside  the  hut  where  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand  was  confined,  and  before  enter- 
ing which,  he  was  studying  how  to  open  the 
delicate  and  important  conversation  that  he 


!U  WBEOKEBS  <;:uAM'-<-mi.i>. 

wns  to  hold  with  the  prisoner.  The  >ound 
(.t*  Marianna's  voice  roused  (tile-  from  hi> 

meditations,  and  lie  greeted  her  with.  "(inud 
morning,  "Miss  Marianna; — it's  an  uncom- 
mon treat  to  see  y<m.  here,  and  so  early 
in  the  morning  too !" 

"The  truth  is,  Mr.  Giles."  said  she,  speak- 
ing with  agreat  effort, — "grandfather  insisted 
upon  my  coming  here,  to  bring  the  wreckers 
his  last  advice, — as  he  sa\>.  and  that  advice 
is  that — that  you  will  hang  the  man  whom 
y<»n  have  now  got  prisoner  !" 

Here  Marianna  was  so  much  shocked  by 
the  sound  of  her  own  words  that  she  turned 
pale,  and  was  unable  to  say  anything  more. 
(iiles,  however,  seemed  to  think  her  grand- 
father's message  a  very  characteristic  one. 
In  reply,  he  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
lifted  his  gri/xly  eye-brows,  and  put  a  quid 
of  tobacco  into  his  mouth.  The  old  sailor 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  95 

then  proceeded  to  unfasten  and  open  the  door 
of  the  hut  before  which  they  stood,  and, 
looking  in,  he  said,  with  a  grim  smile, 
"  Good  morning,  Lieutenant.  Here's  a  young- 
lady  come  to  say  that  the  best  thing  we  can 
do  is  to  hang  you/' 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  had  been  walking 
slowly  back  and  forth,  for  want  of  something 
else  to  do,  but  he  now  stopped  near  the  open 
door,  and  looked  at  Marianna  in  extreme 
amazement.  He  would  have  thought  it 
cause  enough  for  surprise  to  see  a  creature  so 
delicately  fair,  in  this  wild  place,  and  amidst 
these  rude  and  lawless  people,  'but  to  hear 
that  this  lovely  child  wished  to  have  the  un- 
fortunate stranger  put  to  a  horrible  death, — 
was  indeed  a  subject  of  the  greatest  wonder. 

We  need  not  say  that  Marianna  was  most 
painfully  confused,  and  the  color  which  had 
been  entirely  banished  from  her  face,  some 


'MI  WRECKERS    GRANIM  IIILI). 

minutes  before,  now  came  rushing  back  in 
ui a*  liuw  of  crimson.  Unable  to  bear  the 
idea  of  being  so  misunderstood,  she  hastily 
exclaimed,  "  It  was  not  I  who  thought  so  : — 
It  was  my  grandfather  !" 

*'  Indeed  ?"  said  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  smil- 
ing, "and  what  have  I  done  to  the  old  gen- 
tleman, that  he  wishes  to  see  me  strangled  ?"* 

"'You  would' nt  ask  that  if  you  knew  him, 
Lieutenant,"  answered  Giles.  "I  don't  know 
how  even  this  young  lady  can  have  patience 
with  such  a  grandfather,  for  he's  one  of  the 
most  outrageous  old, — 

"  AVait  a  moment  Mr.  Giles," — said  Ma- 
rianna  ,with  dignity,  "  I  am  going  away  now, 
and  then  you  can  talk  of  my  grandfather  as 
you  choose." 

S.>  >;iying,  she  walked  rapidly  away,  re-en- 
tered Peter's  boat,  and  was  rowed  back  to 
the  Uland. 


WRECKER1 8    GRAND-CHILD.  07 

Giles  satisfied  Lieutenant  Ferrand's   curi- 

, 

osity,  by  giving  a  brief  account  of  Marianna 
and  her  grandfather,  and  then  proceeded  to 
speak  of  the  subject  which  was  uppermost 
in  his  mind  that  morning.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  Giles  could  perceive  that  he  himself 
would  not  do  right  in  becoming  the  leader  of 
the  wreckers,  and  yet  he  could  reconcile  it 
with  his  conscience  to  persuade  a  younger 
and  more  experienced  person  to  do  this  very- 
thing  !  The  old  sailor  imagined  that,  in  this, 
way,  he  was  shifting  the  moral  responsibility 
from  himself  to  Lieutenant  Ferrand  ; — and 
all  that  we  can  say  to  explain  or  excuse  these 
ideas  is  that  Giles  had  very  dim  and  cloudy 
notions  of  what  Christianity  really  consists. 
He  commenced  the  conversation  by  asking 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  if  he  had  any  family ; 
and,  when  the  Lieutenant  replied  that  he  had 
a  wife  and  child,  Giles  saw  his  breast  give  a 


'.^  WRECKER'S  <,i:A\i»-rnir.i>. 

short  quick   heave,  that   told    of  smothered 


Giles  then  proceeded  to  say  that  he  was 
-afraid  the  wreckers  would  never  consent  to 
spare  their  prisoner's  life,  except  upon  one 
condition.  What  that  condition  was,  our 
readers  know  already,  but  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand  was  very  much  surprised  on  hearing  it, 
and  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  from  his  coun- 
tenance, that  he  felt  himself  highly  affronted. 
His  lace  flushed  as  he  exclaimed,  "And  do 
tlie>e  thieving  vagabonds  really  imagine  that 
I  would  be  their  leader  ?  Your  people  have 
taken  my  vessel,  my  money,  and  almost 
everything  that  I  possessed  besides,  and  now 
do  they  think  to  rob  me  even  of  my  honesty 
and  respectability  '." 

Giles  did  not  think  it  at  all  strange  that 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  should  view  the  matter 


WRKCKKK  S    GRAND-CHILD.  D9 

in  this  light,  and  yet  he  tried  to  look  as  if 
he  did  consider  it  singular. 

"  Well  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  am  only  anxious 
to  save  your  life, — especially  as  you  have  a 
family.  But,  I  suppose,  if  anything  should 
happen  to  you,  they  would  be  well  provided 
for.  I  dare  say,  your  relations,  or  your 
lady's  relations,  are  well  off  and  some  of 
them  might, — 

"  I  want  none  of  their  help*,  for  my  family 
or  myself, "  hastily  answered  Ferrand. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  manner  in  which  the 
Lieutenant  had  allowed  his  large  fortune  to 
slip  through  his  fingers, — the  way  in  which 
he  had  incurred  a  suspension  from  his  posi- 
tion in  the  Navy,  and  the  visionary  and  un- 
profitable speculations  which  he  had  since 
been  trying,  had  caused  all  of  his  wife's  rela- 
tions and  most  of  Ferrand's  own,  to  declare 
that  he  was  not  capable  of  taking  care  of 


JOO  WRECKERS      <;U.YXI>CHILD. 

himself,  much  less  <>f  a  family.  They  ex- 
pre>.-ed  great  pity  f  >r  Mrs.  Ferrand,  but  she 
always  disclaimed  the  idea  of  being  a  fit 
subject  for  compassion,  and  assured  her  hus- 
band's detractors  that  they  would  yet  see 
him  pursuing  a  useful  and  prosperous  career. 
!Xuw,  Ferrand  thought  when  he  returned 
home  from  another  unsuccessful  speculation, 
and  plundered  of  everything,  how  painful 
would  be  the  feeling  of  his  devoted  Blanche, 
and  how  keen  the  sneers  of  her  relations. 

Jle  was  silent,  and  Giles  thus  continued  t» 
speak  : — "  There's  no  mistake  about  it  that 
a  great  deal  is  to  be  made  by  this  business, 
if  it  is  carried  on  by  a  man  of  sense  and 
spirit.  Old  Von  Ulden  made  enough,  while 
he  was  at  it,  to  keep  himself  and  his  grand- 
daughter comfortable  all  their  lives.  What 
I  thought,  sir,  was  that  you  might  promise 
to  be  our  "Commodore"  just  for  one  year, 


WRECKER'S  <, RAND-CHILD.  101 

and  reserve  the  liberty,  after  that,  to  keep 
the  situation  or  not,  just  as  you  choose. 
Then  sir,  when  that  time  is  up,  you  might  go 
home  full-handed,  and  nobody  you  care  for, 
need  know  exactly  what  business  you  had 
been  in." 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  began  to  feel  that 
there  was  some  temptation  in  this,  but  though 
shaken,  he  was  not  conquered. 

In  a  low  yet  resolute  voice,  he  answered, 
"  I  was  not  trained  for  any  such  life  as  this. 
I  have  some  conscience,  and  value  principle 
far  more  than  money." 

At  these  words,  Giles  himself  turned  pale, 
and  those  horrors  of  conscience  to  which,  at 
times,  he  was  subject,  came  suddenly  over 
him.  Yet  still, — with  the  fatal  obstinacy 
that  ruins  so  many  souls,  he  would  not  yield 
to  the  conviction  that  he  was  utterly  a  sinner, 
and  had  no  hope  but  in  God's  pardoning 

a* 


1O_>  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

grace.  On  the  contrary,  he  cast  about  ii\ 
hi>  mind  for  some  excuse  that  should  justify 
his  present  conduct  in  his  own  opinion,  as 
well  as  in  Lieutenant  Ferrand's. 

Presently,  his  brow  cleared  up,  and  with 
a  new  confidence,  Giles  thus  began  to  speak : 
*•  "Well,  the  fact  is,  Lieutenant,  I  wasn't 
trained  for  this  kind  of  thing  neither.  My 
parents  were  good  people,  and  tried  to  teach 
me  what  was  right,  and  now,  that  I'm  getting 
old,  I  often  feel  that  I  would  like  to  lead  a 
different  life.  Xow,  most  of  the  wreckers, 
here,  don't  seem  to  know  right  from  wrong, 
and  I  think  that,  if  they  had  a  leader  that 
they  would  respect  and  obey,  and  that  had  a 
conscience  of  his  own,  he  might  control 
them  for  their  own  good,  and  other  people's 
too.  Yon  know,  sir,  a  wrecker  needn't  bj  a 
thief.  AVhen  tilings  are  washed  on  shore, 
or  when  our  men,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  103 

iish  them  out  of  the  ocean,  and  when  there 
is  no  owner  to  claim  them,  I  think  we  have 
a  better  right  to  them  than  anybody  else. 
Then,  what  a  chance  we  have  here,  for  show- 
ing humanity  to  ship-wrecked  people ! 
There's  no  telling,  sir,  how  many  of  them 
poor  unfortunates  you  might  save  from 
perishing  in  the  course  of  a  year,  and  what 
a  reform  you  might  make  among  the  wreck- 
ers  themselves." 

Ferrnnd  was  silent  for  some  moments, 
while  lie  considered  the  subject  in  this  new 
light.  Amidst  the  agitation  and  hurry  of 
his  thoughts,  just  then,  the  idea  of  asking 
God  to  guide  him  aright,  never  occurred  to 
his  mind.  Tie  was  what  we  may  term  a 
lialf-religious  man,  and  the  sort  of  instinctive 
respect  which  he  felt  for  holy  things  was 
owing  to  the  teachings  of  a  Christian  mother, 
whose  gentle  guidance  he  had  lo.4  when 


104:  WRECKER'S  (.RAMM  HILD. 

about  sixteen  years  old.  His  father  was 
spared  for  several  years  later,  but  his  care 
was  almost  entirely  centered  on  the  cultiva- 
tion of  his  son's  mind,  as  Francis  was  ivully 
a  youth  of  very  promising  talents,  and.  had 
he  not  been  born  rich,  might  have  "  made 
his  mark''  in  the  world.  But,  being  trained 
to  no  particular  occupation,  the  energy  of 
his  nature  was  never  fully  developed,  and  he 
acquired  a  thoughtlessness  of  character  that 
clung  to  him  through  life.  His  aim  wa.s  to 
enjoy  the  present  hour  as  fully  as  possible,  in 
a  refined  and  graceful  sort  of  way,  and  with- 
out wronging  anybody  else. 

The  lovely  and  pious  young  lady  whom  he 
married  had, — more  by  her  example  than  by 
anything  she  said, — "  almost  persuaded"  him. 
"to  be  a  Christian;"  but  the  difficulty  was 
that  he  could  not  come  up  to  the  reality  of 
believing  himself  to  be  a  great  sinner.  "I 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  105 

liave  never  done  much  harm,"  he  would  say, 
"  and  I  never  meant  to  do  any."  He  per- 
suaded himself  that  with  just  a  little  religion 
to  piece  out  his  own  merits,  he  might  easily 
manage  to  get  to  Heaven.  He  went  to 
church  quite  frequently,  and  on  Sunday, 
would  pick  out  and  read  some  of  the  most 
interesting  narratives,  and  poetic  portions  of 
the  Bible. 

Xow,  while  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was  con- 
sidering the  arguments  that  Giles  had  urged, 
his  whole  frame  became  agitated  with  per- 
plexity. He  cast  alternate  glances  at  Giles, 
at  the  floor,  and  at  the  windows,  as  if  in 
hopes  of  seeing  something  that  might  help 
'him  in  making  up  his  mind ; — but,  as  we 
said  before,  he  somehow  forgot  to  look  to 
God. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  at  length,  though  in  a 
hesitating  tone, — "  if  I  can  do  any  good  by 


!«'<:  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

spending  a  year  among  these  people, — that 
must,  certainly,  make  a  difference.  I  think 
I  will  try  the  experiment." 

As  he  spoke,  hoAvever,  the  blood  again 
tingled  in  his  cheeks,  and  he  pressed  one  hand 
over  his  eyes,  in  an  agony  of  shame  at  having 
accepted  Giles's  offer,  under  any  pretence. 
The  old  sailor  perceived  this  spasm,  and  said 
hastily,  "  Well,  sir,  I  pledge  yon  my  word 
that  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  help  you  in  your 
plans,  and  try  to  bring  about  a  better  state  of 
tilings  here.  But  he  so  kind,  now,  as  to, 
come  with  me  to  my  cabin,  and  get  a  cup  of 
coffee,  and  a  little  breakfast." 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  promptly  rose,  gave 
himself  a  slight  shake,  and  put  on  his  hat. 
He  did  not  care  anything  about  breakfast, 
ju.-r  then,  but  he  felt  eager  for  some  change 
of  scene  and  of  subject. 

When  the  Lieutenant  and  Giles  emerged 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  107 

from  the  lint,  most  of  the  wreckers  were 
standing  in  a  group,  a  little  distance  off, 
talking  together.  Ferrand  wore  a  neat  un- 
dress uniform,  and  a  very  becoming  straw 
hat,  and  there  was  something  in  his  whole 
appearance  which  might  have  riveted  the  at- 
tention, and  struck  the  fancy  of  wiser  people 
than  the  Florida  wreckers. 

"Well,  boys," — exclaimed  Giles,  as  he 
pointed  to  the  Lieutenant,  "  here  is  our  new 
Commodore." 

All  the  wreckers  immediately  pulled  off 
their  hats,  tossed  them  np  in  the  air,  and 
gave  three  vehement  hurrahs,  while  Lien- 
tenant  Ferrand  bowed  slightly  in  return,  and 
forced  himself  to  smile.  The  wreckers  then 
crowded  around  him  to  shake  hands,  and  to 
show  their  cordiality  of  feeling,  they  thought 
themselves  bound  to  shake  his  hand  as  vio- 
lently as  possible.  Ferrand  soon  showed  by 


l<i>  WKECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

hi>  looks  that  he  was  tired  of  this  kind  «;f  ex- 
ercise, and  Giles  persuaded  the  other  wreck- 
ers to  put  off  the  rest  of  the  hand-shaking 
until  some  future  time,  and  allow  the  Lieu- 
tenant, just  now,  to  take  a  cup  of  coffee. 

After  taking  a  little  refreshment,  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand's  next  act  was  to  sit  down  and 
write  a  letter  to  his  wife,  lie  hriefly  in- 
formed her  that  his  AVe>t  India  speculation 
had  tailed,  and  that  his  yacht  had  run  ashore 
on  the  Florida  coast,  and  was  considerably 
injured,  hut  that  he  had  unexpectedly  re- 
ceived "  an  appointment,7'  which  he  ingen- 
iously, but  not  very  clearly  described  a*-  that 
of  being  "a  sort  of  wreck-master,"  fur  this 
portion  of  the  coast.  He  stated  that  the 
duties  of  this  office  might  keep  him  ab- 
sent from  home  fur  a  year,  but  that  his  sal- 
ary w«>i;H  enable  him  to  send  his  wife  enough 
mom -y  to  support  her  and  their  little  one  in 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  109 

comfort,  for  that  period  of  time,  at  least.  In 
conclusion,  he  promised  Blanche  that  she 
should  receive  letters  from  him  very  fre- 
quently, and  gave  such  directions  as  would 
enable  her  messages  to  reach  him,  in  return. 

Ferrand's  chest,  and  all  its  contents,  had 
now  been  given  back  to  him,  and  he  enclosed 
in  this  letter  to  his  wife  several  bank-notes, 
which  comprised  very  nearly  all  the  money 
he  had.  When  the  letter  was  ready,  Giles 
undertook  to  see  that  it  was  put  in  the  way 
of  safely  reaching  its  destination. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  Hugh 
was  wandering  listlessly  along  the  beach, 
while  the  wrecker's  children  played  noisily 
and  boisterously  about,  and  some  of  the  boys 
every  now  and  then  disturbed  Hugh's  medi- 
tations, by  calling  to  him  to  "  come  and  have 
some  fun,''  or  by  playing  him  some  mischiev- 
ous trick,  as  a  penalty  for  being  "so  dull  and 
10 


110           WBBCKKR'S  (^RAND-CHILD. 

sober."  But  it  was  now  young  Ross's  par- 
ticular wish  to  be  left  to  himself,  and  as,  in 
looking  across  tlie  intervening  water,  lie  saw 
the  quiet  beauty  of  Yon  Ulden's  island,  it 
struck  him  that  there  would  be  a  good  place 
in  which  to  seek  for  peace  and  solitude.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  jumped  into  a  little  boat,  took 
the  oars,  and  rowed  himself  to  the  island. 
There  he  sat  himself  down,  near  the  shore, 
upon  the  roots  of  an  old  tree,  which  had 
been  laid  bare  by  the  washing  of  the  waves 
at  high  tide.  Hugh  rested  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  his  chin  npon  his  hands, looking 
straight  before  him.  His  expression  of  face 
grew  more  and  more  sad,  and  he  had  just 
heaved  a  sigh  so  deep  that  it  was  almost  a 
groan,  when  a  slight  rustling  near  by  attracted 
his  attention,  and  caused  him  to  look  around. 
Hugh's  ideas  concerning  angels  were  the 
most  crude  and  dim  imaginable,  and  rclV  red 


Ill 

only  to  wings  and  long  white  robes;  but  we 
cannot  blame  him  for  this,  since  it  was  only 
recently  that  by  reading  Lieutenant  Ferrand's 
books,  he  had  learned  that  such  beings  ex- 
ist at  all.  But  the  book  which  Hugh  had 
read  most  attentively  was  "  The  Arabian 
Nights,"  and  from  its  pages  he  had  gathered 
pretty  distinct  notions  of  what  fairies  were 
supposed  to  be ; — nor  had  he  the  slightest 
doubt  of  the  reality  of  those  charming  and 
highly  gifted  beings. 

Therefore,  after  staring  for  a  moment  or 
two  at  the  girl  who  stood  not  far  from  him, 
Hugh  seriously  ;md  deferentially  inquired. 
"  Are  you  a  fairy,  Miss  ? ' 

Now,  the  few  books  which  Marianna  had 
read,  all  happened  to  be  true  ones,  and,  in  the 
knowledge  of  fictitious  things,  even  Hugh 
was  in  advance  of  her. 

"A  fairy!" — she  repeated,  with   surprise. 


Ill'  WRECKER'S  GUANI>-<JJIIU>. 

"  what  is  that  (  I  am  Marianna  Yon  Ulden, 
and  my  grandfather's  house  is  over  there, 
among  the  orange  trees." 

"Well,"  returned  the  boy,  "I  am  Hugh 
Ross ; — but  I  wish  that  I  was  almost*  any  body 
else." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  Marianna. 

"  Because,''  said  Hugh,  anxious  to  unbur- 
den his  heart  to  a  listener  of  such  amiable 
appearance, — "because  there's  nobody  in 
this  whole  world  that  cares  one  straw  about 
me,  or  wants  me  to  care  anything  about  them. 
My  father  was  buried  this  morning, — but  lie 
never  thought  me  of  any  account  when 
he  was  living.  I  had  one  friend  that  did  a 
great  deal  for  me,  and  that  I  would  be  will- 
ing to  die  for  this  minute, — and  that's  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand.  But  as  my  horrid  bad  luck 
would  have  it, — lie  must  be  the  \  <  rv  one  to 
>hoot  my  father; — and  now,  I  can  see  that 


WRECKER'S    <. HAND-CHILD.          113 

lie  don't  caiv  about  having  me  near  him.  It 
seems  as  if  lie  blames  me  tor  still  liking  him, 
after  what  has  happened. 

"  Old  Giles  has  given  me  a  home,  just  so  that 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  may  have  me  to  wait  on 
him,  and  still,  T  don't  wait  on  him  much,  be- 
cause he  won't  give  me  a  chance  to.  I  don't 
know  what's  to  become  of  me,  or  what  kind 
of  a  man  I'm  to  grow  up  to  be. — I've  got 
nothing  to  do,  nothing  to  learn,  nobody  to 
talk  to,  and  no  one  to  care  whether  I  live  or 
die !" 

Hugh's  words,  and  the  melancholy,  hope- 
less way  in  which  they  were  spoken,  easily 
drew  forth  the  sympathy  of  Marianna. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  the  time  was  when  T 
had  a  good  many  that  loved  me,  and  that  I 
love  still,  though  they  are  gone  from  me 
now.  I  can  just  faintly  remember  my 
mother, — like  a  dream  of  an  angel, — and  how 
JO* 


114  WKK<  KKK'S  OKAMM  im.i>. 

she  held  me  to  her  bosom  and  kis>ed  me. 
My  father,  too,  was  very  fond  of  me,  I  know  : 
and  then  I  had  aunt  Naomi, — such  a  good 
kind  nurse, — Oh,  there  never  was  another 
likelier!  Now,  I  have  no  one  but  grand- 
father, and  he  lias  so  much  to  worry  him. — 
But  what  am  I  talking  about '. — I  have  some 
one  else,  to  be  sure,  who  loves  me  better 
than  even  a  mother,  or  a  father,  could.  A> 
aunt  Naomi's  hymn-book  >a\ •>. 

"One  there  is  above  all  others. 

Well  deserves  the  name  of  friend." 

"That  Friend  watches  over  me  by  night 
and  by  day, — saves  me  from  danger,  even 
before  I  know  that  any  danger  is  near; — 
cheers  my  heart  when  I  am  >ad. — tells  me 
when  1  do  wrong,  and  helps  me  do  right. 
Tm  perfectly  sure  that  Friend  will  never  for- 
xik«-  me,  a::d  will  never  feel  displeased  with 
me,  unless  it'>  for  some  good  cause/' 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  115 

"  I  wish  that  I  had  such  a  friend  as  that," 
said  Hugh  with  a  sigh." 

"  Why,  you  can  have,"  answered  Marian- 
na;  "He  is  willing  to  be  the  friend  of  any- 
body that  will  ask  him. 

Then  seeing  that  Hugh  looked  surprised 
and  perplexed,  she  inquired,  "Don't  you 
know  anything  about  Jesus,  the  Saviour  V 

"  Yes  ;" — said  Hugh,  "  the  sailor  boy  that 
taught  me  how  to  read  had  no  book  except 
a  Bible  that  his  parents  had  given  him,  and 
go  I  learned  out  of  that.  The  last  part  of  it 
was  about  Jesus, — how  he  cured  sick  people, 
and  gave  sight  to  the  blind, — and  many  other 
things  that  I  don't  remember.  Dut  how  can 
he  care  anything  about  us  '<  He  is  in  Heaven 
nowr, — and  we  are  way  dowrn  here,  upon  this 
earth  !" 

"Why,"  said  Marianna,  very  earnestly, 
"He  is  the  same  with  God,  the  Maker  of 


11<;  WRECKER'S  URAND-OHILD. 

this  island,  that  main-land,  that  great  ocean, 
and  everything  else  that's  in  this  world  ; — 
and  don't  you  think  that  he  who  made  every- 
thing can  see  and  know  everything  ?  ITc  is 
looking  at  yon  and  me  standing  here,  at  this 
moment ; — He  listens  to  our  words,  and 
reads  every  thought  in  our  hearts.  Yes, — 
though  we  can't  see  him,  He  is  right  here 
now  ;  to  his  believing  disciples  his  promise 
is,  "  I  am  with  you  always." 

A>  Marianna  emphatically  pronounced  this 
great  truth,  a  sudden  conviction  of  its  reality 
darted  through  Hugh's  whole  being,  like  an 
electric  thrill.  Starting  to  his  feet,  he  looked 
around  him.  A  mysterious  brightness  seemed 
to  rest  upon  that  blooming  isle, — that  snowy 
beach,  and  wide-spread  ocean, — because 
Christ  was  there  !  "With  feelings  somewhat 
like  those  of  Paul,  when  that  wondrous  light 
broke  upon  his  vision,  near  Damascus,  Hugh 


WKECKKR'S  GKAND-CHILD.  117 

said,  half  to  himself  and  half  to  Marianna, 
"  But  how  can  I  tell  what  Jesus  wants  me  to 
do!" 

"  Have  you  no  Bible,"  asked  Marianna. 

"  ^o  indeed ; — I  never  had  one,"  answered 
Hugh. 

Marianna  reflected  a  few  moments,  then 
said,  "Well,  I  will  give  you  aunt  ^Naomi's 
Bible.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  could  give 
it  away,  if  she  hadn't  said  to  me,  just  a  few 
days  before  she  died,  "  Dear  child,  when  I 
am  gone,  and  you  meet  with  some  poor  soul 
that  has  no  Bible,  give  him  this."  I  told  her 
that  I  should  never  like  to  part  with  it,  but 
she  said,  "  Yes, — Bibles  are  to  do  good  with, 
and  not  to  keep  hoarded  up.  You  have  one 
that  your  dear  mother  left,  and  you  must 
keep  it  always."  So,  wait  here  Hugh,  and 
I  will  soon  be  back." 

Marianna  tripped  away  to  her  grandfather's 


118  WKKCKKR'S    GRAND-CHILD. 

house,  and  speedily  returned  with  the  Bible. 
She  could  not  refrain  from  a  sigh,  and  a 
moistening  of  the  eyes,  as  she  placed  in 
Hugh's  hands  that  volume  which  she  had 
seen  her  dear  nurse  read  so  often,  but  she 
comforted  herself  by  saying  to  the  boy,  "  I'm 
sure  that  if  reading  this  makes  you  better, 
and  happier,  I  shall  only  be  carrying  out 
aunt  Xaomi's  last  wish  in  giving  it  to  you.'' 

As  soon  as  he  received  the  Bible,  Hugh 
opened  it,  turned  over  a  leaf  or  two,  and 
glanced  anxiously  at  the  pages. 

u  AVhen  I  read  a  book,"  said  he,  "  I  always 
like  to  understand  it,  and  I  don't  know  as  I 
can  understand  everything  in  this." 

"  Then  you  must  ask  God  to  help  you  un- 
derstand it,"  replied  Marianna. 

As  Hugh  had  never  tried  to  pray,  he  felt 
doubtful  whether  he  could  proceed  rightly 
in  offering  a  petition  to  the  Sovereign  of  the 


WRECKER 


universe*  Mariamia  saw  thi.s  in  his  looks, 
and  thus  continued  ;  "  You  must  just  go 
where  you  can  be  t^uiet  by  yourself,  and 
kneel  clown,  and  raise  your  thoughts  to  God, 
and  ask  Him,  for  Jesus'  sake,  to  teach  you 
the  right  meaning  of  what  you  read  in  His 
holy  book.  Remember,  He  can  hear  you  as 
well  from  the  Florida  beach,  as  if  you  were 
kneeling  right  before  His  throne  in  heaven  !" 

Again  Hugh  in  voluntarily  glanced  around 
and  upward,  and,  awe-struck  in  the  felt  pres- 
ence of  "the  King  eternal,  immortal  and 
invisible,  —  "  he  reverently  replied,  "I'll  do 
as  you  say." 

"  Yes,  and  I,  too,  will  pray  for  you,"  said 
Marianna.  "  But  good-bye,  Hugh  ;  —  it  is  time 
for  me  to  be  going  home." 

Hugh  thanked  Marianna,  with  unfeigned 
warmth,  for  her  precious  gift,  and  stood  look- 
ing after  her  until  she  had  flitted  out  of 


iL'd  WRECKERS  «; HAND-CHILD. 

sight.  Then,  putting  the  Bible  in  his  bosom, 
lie  jumped  into  his  boat,  and  returned  to  the 
main-land.  He  inquired  if  Lieutenant  1'er- 
rand  had  anything  for  him  t<»  do,  and,  on 
•being  answered  in  the  negative,  he  at  once 
went  to  the  garret  room  where  lie  slept  un- 
der the  sloping  and  moss-covered  roof  of 
Giles's  cottage.  Hugh  very  sensibly  began 
by  kneeling  down  and  uttering  a  short  prayer 
for  Divine  help  to  understand  what  he  should 
read.  He  then  opened  his  Bible  at  the  Xew 
Testament,  and  was  soon  absorbed  in  >tudy- 
ing  the  teachings,  the  sufferings,  and  the  re- 
deeming love  of  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIEUTENANT  FERRAND  DISCOVERS  HIS  MISTAKE. 

HE  VISITS  VOX  ULDEX'S  ISLAND. HUGH 

LEAVES  THE  WRECKER    SETTLEMENT. 

SHE  next  day  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  for 
the  first  time,  stepped  upon  the  strand 
^  ^  of  Von  Ulden's  island.  His  motives 
in  coming  were  similar  to  those  which  had  led 
Hugh  thither  the  preceding  afternoon.  His 
mind  was  dissatisfied ;- — he  was  restless  ; — 
and  the  quiet,  retired  appearance  of  this  is- 
land seemed  to  promise  a  pleasing  means  of 
escape  from  disagreeable  company.  On  the 
first  evening  after  accepting  the  office  of 
"  Commander,"  Lieutenant  Ferraiid  began  to 
realize  how  difficult  was  the  task  he  had  un- 
dertaken— to  reform  the  wreckers.  That 
evening,  they  held  a  festive  meeting  in  hon- 

1  I  (U'l) 


i'2'2  WRECKER**  <;K'\\I>-<  nn.n. 

or  of  their  "New  Commodore,"  and  Lieu- 
tenant Ferraiid  was  obliged  to  take  the  head 
of  the  table,  and  preside  over  a  scene  which 
he  heartily  detested.  He  firmly  declined  to 
do  more  than  taste  the  liquor  which  was 
placed  before  him,  although  repeatedly  urged 
to  drink;  and  he  patiently  endured  the 
clouds  of  tobacco  smoke,  and  the  almost  con- 
stant spitting  of  the  tobacc<  >  chewers, — though 
he  never  used  the  noxious  weed  in  any  form. 

But  scarcely  could  he  hide  the  disgust  pro- 
duced by  the  shocking  profanity  of  those 
around  him.  His  mother  had  impressed  up- 
on his  mind  such  an  abhorrence  of  this  habit 
that  it  could  never  be  effaced,  and  the  first 
piece  of  advice  he  had  given  Hugh  Ross  was 
an  injunction  to  leave  off  swearing, — which 
Hugh  did  from  that  hour. 

The  wreckers  soon  became  drunk  and 
n«M>y,  and  the  room  where  they  were  assem- 


WKKCKKK'S  (; RAND-CHILD.  123 

bled  resounded  with  roaring  laughter  and 
vulgar  songs.  When  he  had  endured  his 
penance  as  long  as  possible,  Ferrand  rose, 
bade  the  company  good  night,  and  left  the 
apartment. 

The  wreckers  thought  this  singular  be- 
haviour, and  jet  they  felt  it  as  a  relief,  for 
Lieutenant  Ferrand's  presence  was  a  restraint 
upon  them,  and  they  had  been  obliged  to 
make  some  effort  to  "enjoy  themselves" 
while  he  saw  and  heard  them. 

The  next  day,  Ferrand  commenced  a  prac- 
tice which  afterwards  became  habitual  with 
him, — that  of  roaming  about  through  the 
vicinity,  "  killing  time,"  and  trying  to  kill 
thought,  by  viewing  the  charms  of  natural 
scenery  in  a  part  of  the  world  which  he  had 
never  visited  before.  On  the  third  morning, 
his  restless  mood  led  him,  as  we  have  said, 
to  Von  Ulden's  island.  Hugh  managed  the 


1^4  WRECKERS  GRANIM -iiiu>. 

oars  of  the  little  boat  which  performed  this 
short  voyage,  and  when  Lieutenant  Ferrand 
stepped  on  >liore,  Hugh  made  fast  the  boat 
and  followed  him.  Ferrand  walked  leisure- 
ly along,  looking  at  the  island  scenery,  and 
on  catching  .sight  of  Von  Tlden's  house, 
turned  his  steps  in  that  direction. 

He  had  almost  reached  the  dwelling  when, 
coming  along  a  foot-path  through  the  luxu- 
riant grass,  there  appeared  Von  Ulden,  lean- 
ing upon  the  shoulder  of  Marianna.  This 
meeting  was  accidental,  and  when  Marianna 
saw  the  Lieutenant,  she  tried  to  turn  her 
grandfather's  steps  in  another  direction,  but 
it  was  too  late.  Von  Ulden  immediately 
judged  who  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was,  and 
Ferrand.  on  his  part,  made  an  equally  suc- 
cessful gue.-s,  from  seeing  the  old  man  sup- 
ported by  Marianna.  A  boding  scowl  came 
over  Von  UldenV  f;(ce  as  lie  saw  the  Lieu- 


WRKCKEKR 


125 


tenant,  but  Ferrand  looked  tranquil  and  un- 
conscious, as  he  picked  his  teetli  with  the 
point  of  a  bird's  quill,  which  he  had  found 
a  few  minutes  before. 

"  You  are  the  new  Commodore,  I  sup- 
pose ?"  said  Von  Ulden,  with  a  grim  sneer, 
"  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  new  dignity  !" 

Ferrand  well  understood  his  meaning,  but 
he  answered  gravely,  and  with  a  polite  in- 
clination of  the  head,  "I  thank  you,  sir." 
Yon  Ulden  however,  seemed  to  be  deter- 
mined that  they  should  not  part  upon  peace- 
able terms,  and  he  remarked  with  the  same- 
air  of  savage  derision,  u  It's  laughable  to  see 
full  grown  ruffians  so  pleased  with  a  new 
toy,  that,  after  awhile,  will  be  broken  and 
thrown  aside  !  You  may  thank  your  stars, 
my  little  gentleman,  that  old  Von  Ulden's 
word  is  not  as  powerful  as  it  once  was,  or 

11* 


you  would  liave  been  hung  up  two  or  three 
days  ago  !M 

"  I  know  it,' '  answered  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 
composedly,  u  and,  though  I  have  a  great 
aversion  to  hanging,  I  begin  to  think  that,  if 
you  could  have  persuaded  them  to  kill  me 
in  any  other  way,  it  would  have  been  a  very 
friendly  act." 

"  You  mock  me,  do  you,  puppy  ; — yon  pre- 
tend to  think  the  old  broken  down  wrecker 
not  worth  quarrelling  with,"  exclaimed  Ton 
Ulden,  rapidly  working  himself  into  a  pas- 
sion. "  What  brings  you  here,  to  beard  me 
at  my  own  door  ?  You  shall  find  it  a  dear 
experiment ! — You  shall  learn  what  it  i>  to 
come  and  defy  the  tiger  in  his  lair  !" 

As  he  thus  spoke.  V.»n  riden  drew  forth 
a  long  bladed,  sharp  pointed  knife,  which  he 
always  carried,  and,  pushing  aside  Marianna, 
advanced  toward  the  Lieutenant. 


WRECKER'S  GRANIKMIILD.  127 

Ferrand  stirred  not  a  step  to  avoid  the 
knife,  but  drawing  liis  coat  away  from  the 
left,  side  of  his  bosom,  touched  his  vest  right 
over  the  heart,  and  said,  "  Strike  me  here, 
and  strike  hard  !" 

The  two  children,  who  had  been  astonished 
spectators  of  this  scene,  saw  that  Von  Ulden 
was  actually  about  to  take  his  life,  without 
fear  or  hesitation,  and  they  both  sprang  for- 
ward. Marianna  caught  hold  of  her  grand- 
father's arm,  and  Hugh  wrested  away  the 
knife,  which  he  then  flung  into  a  thicket  at 
some  distance.  Highly  indignant,  young 
Ross  exclaimed,  "  Old  man,  if  it  was  not 
for  her"  pointing  to  Marianna,  u  I  would 
soon  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you !" 

"  Hush  ;"  said  Lieutenant  Ferrand, — "  you 
had  better  think  if  you  and  I  may  not  come 
to  be  as  wicked  as  he  is,  by  the  time  our  hair 
is  as  white !" 


128  WRECKER'S  GKAMM;IIILD. 

Hugh  looked  at  the  aged  sinner  before  him. 
— recalled  the  conversation  he  had  held  with 
"Marianna  the  preceding  day,  and  the  good 
resolutions  which  he  had  formed  that  morn- 
ing, over  the  open  pages  of  his  newly  ac- 
quired Bible, — and  he  wondered,  with  a 
shudder,  if  all  those  resolutions  could  fail, 
and  he  be  left,  at  length,  to  such  an  old  age 
as  this ! 

Again,  as  on  a  former  occasion  which  we 
have  described,  there  came  over  Yon  Ulden's 
tace  a  sudden  change,  from  rage  to  anguish 
and  despair.  "  Yes,"  he  groaned,  "  I  am  fit 
for  nothing  now !  Even  children  can  baffle 
me ; — and  I  have  lost  the  power  to  revenge 
myself  on  any  one !" 

With  these  words,  he  staggered  to  a  fallen 
tree  near  by,  sat  down  upon  it,  and  dropping 
his  head  forward  and  .shutting  his  eyes, 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  ' 

seemed  to  sink  into  a  partially  insensible  con- 
dition. 

"  All,"  said  Marianna,  with  pallid  cheeks 
and  quivering  lip,  addressing  herself  to  the 
Lieutenant  and  Hugh,  "  if  you  knew  how 
much  grandfather  suffers,  you  would  pity 
and  not  hate  him  !" 

"  I  do  pity  him,  my  dear,"  said  Lieutenant 
Ferrand. 

"  I  believe  you  do,  sir,'"  replied  Marianna, 
looking  at  him  gratefully,  "  but  I  must  say 
that  you  are  a  great  deal  too  careless  of  your 
own  life." 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Ferrand,  "  I 
felt  just  now  as  if  I  might  as  well  meet  death 
at  once,  before  I  found  any  more  troubles  ; 
and  I  should  never  have  had  that  trial 
to  go  through  with  again,  since  'It  is  ap- 
pointed unto  men  but  once  to  die.'  v 

"  But,  after  that,  the  judgment^  impres- 


130  WRECKER'S  OKANIM  HILD. 

sivelv  and  significantly  added  Mfurianna,  lin- 
ishing  the  quotation. 

Ferrand  oast  down  his  eyes,  and  Marianna 
saw  that  he,  who  had  so  calmly  braved  death 
a  few  minutes  before,  shrank  from  the  thought 
of  that  decision  which  might  be  passed  upon 
his  soul  by  the  Almighty  Judge,  should  he 
imw  be  hurried  into  eternity. 

He  said  nothing,  however,  but,  after  stand- 
ing in  pensive  meditation  for  a  few  minutes, 
bowed  to  Marianna  and  walked  away,  fol- 
lowed by  Hugh. 

The  wreckers  were  now,  by  Lieutenant 
Ferrand's  directions,  engaged  in  repairing  the 
yacht,  and  making  it  seawrorthy,  so  that  it 
might  be  used  by  them  as  a  trading  vessel 
to  carry  to  neighboring  ports  such  goods  as 
they  wished  to  dispose  of. 

This  did  much  towards  rendering  their 
new  leader  popular  with  the  wreckers.  In- 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  131 

deed,  his  influence  over  them  was  wonderful, 
considering  that  he  never  joined  in  their 
drinking  parties,  and  rarely  held  a  conversa- 
tion with  any  of  them  except  Giles  and  hib 
wife,  with  whom  he  resided.  But  the  fact 
that  there  was  a  great  deal  in  his  behaviour 
which  they  could  not  understand,  gave  the 
wreckers  a  much  higher  opinion  of  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand  ;  as  people  are  more  apt  to  re- 
spect that  which  is  mysterious,  and  above 
their  comprehension.  Besides,  Ferrand  had 
a  very  amiable  disposition ; — a  gift  which 
renders  goodness  ten  times  more  attractive, 
and  makes  even  the  erring  and  benighted 
soul  seem  not  less  than  an  "  angel  ruined.'' 
The  blending  of  mildness  and  dignity  in  the 
Lieutenant's  actions  and  language,  made  a 
still  deeper  impression  on  those  around  him, 
because  they  had  been  accustomed  to  the 
harshness  and  violence  of  You  Ulden,  and 


132  WRECKERS    GRANIVTHILI). 

they  found  that  their  new  Commodore 
rould  be  ju>t  a?  firm  and  decided  as  the  old 
one,  without  being  unreasonable  or  passion- 
ate. 

Ferrand  was  much  more  pleased  to  con- 
verse with  the  women  and  children  of  the 
wrt-eker  families  than  with  the  men;  and  his 
manner  towards  these  two  classes  was  full  of 
that  noble  gentleness  which  some  people  call 
"  chivalry,"  but  which  is  nothing  more  than 
doing  to  others  as  we  would  have  them  do  to 
us,  if  we  were  weak  and  timid,  and  they 
were  brave  and  strong. 

About  ten  days  had  elapsed  since  Lieuten- 
ant Ferra nd's  first  arrival  in  Florida,  when 
a  violent  gale  sprang  up,  which  caused  a 
small  merchant  vessel  to  be  wrecked  upon 
that  portion  of  the  coast.  The  wrecker.-,  as 
UMial,  thought  of  nothing  but  securing  what- 
ever article.-  of  value  were  to  be  picked  up, 


WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD.  133 

r.:i(l  the  master  of  the  vessel  and  three  men 
who  were  with  him,  might  have  perished  in 
the  waves,  if  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  with  Giles 
and  Hugh,  had  not  gone  to  their  relief  in  a 
small  boat,  and  rescued  them,  at  the  peril  of 
their  own  lives.  When  the  four  sea-faring 
men  found  all  their  property  in  the  hands  of 
the  wreckers,  they  remonstrated  against  such 
conduct,  but  nothing  was  given  them  except 
a  dry  suit  of  clothes  for  each  one,  and  they 
were  soon  made  to  understand  that  their 
lives  would  be  in  danger  if  they  said  any- 
thing more.  The  master  of  the  vessel  was 
in  despair  at  his  loss,  and  exclaimed  to  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand,  "If  I'd  known  that  your 
men  were  going  to  plunder  me  of  everything, 
in  this  way,  I'd  as  lief  have  been  drowned  I" 
Ferrand  was  vexed  and  mortified  beyond 
expression,  and  knowing  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  command  the  wreckers  to  give  up 
12 


134  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

their  plunder  to  its  proper  owner,  he  tried  t«» 
persuade  them  into  doing  so,  by  talking  to 
them  as  though  they  were  persons  of  honor- 
able and  benevolent  feelings.  But  these 
lawless  men  -considered  his  remonstrances 
only  as  a  proof  of  what  they  termed  "  green- 
nt'ss,"  and  positively,  yet  respectfully,  de- 
clared that "  such  a  thing  as  that  would  never 
do!" 

"  Findings  is  keepings ; — that's  wrecker's 
law,  sir,"  added  one  of  them,  triumphantly. 

Ferrand  walked  away  in  disgust,  feeling 
that  all  the  hold  which  he  had  upon  these 
men  was  surely  not  enough  to.  produce  any 
givat  reformation  among  them.  It  is  true 
that  missionaries  in  foreign  lands,  behold  the 
most  ferocious  and  degraded  savages  trans- 
formed into  good  and  useful  men  ;  but  these 
missionaries  have  a  secret  of  power  which 
Ferrand  did  not  possess.  Before  there  can 


WRECKERS  ^RAND-CHILD.  13i> 

be  any  great  change  in'a  person's  life,  the- 
heart  must  be  changed,  and  nothing  can 
change  the  heart  but  the  power  of  the  Holy* 
Spirit.  Ferrand  had  not  learned  by  his  own 
experience  the  wonder-working  power  of 
Gospel  faith,  and  when  mere  morality, — 
which  he  expected  would  have  the  effect  of 
a  wizard's  wand, — proved  to  be  a  dead  and 
brittle  stick  in  his  grasp, — he  felt  completely 
helpless  and  baffled. 

The  wreckers  now  set  about  dividing  their 
spoils,  and  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was  sum- 
moned to  preside,  and  see  that  it  was  done 
fairly.  He  promptly  complied  with  this  re- 
quest, and  nothing  but  his  deep  seriousness,, 
and  the  fewness  of  his  wordsy  showed  that  he 
remembered  the  difference  of  opinion  be- 
tween himself  and  his  followers. 

A  choice  and  liberal  share  was,  by  the  gen- 
eral vote,  alloted  to  their  new  "  Commodore,"" 


13f>  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

ami  lie  immediately  had  the  articles  conveyed 
to  a  spot  not  far  off,  where  he  had  directed 
the  ship-wrecked  sailors  to  wait  until  they 
should  hear  from  him.  Giles's  conscience 
had  taken  a  fresh  alarm  from  some  words 
that  had  heen  addressed  to  him  by  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand,  and  he  immediately  consented 
to  give  up  to  the  ship-wrecked  men  his  share 
also  of  their  cargo  and  personal  property. 
The  sailors  purchased  for  a  trifle,  from  one  of 
the  wreckers,  a  four-oared  boat  in  which  they 
placed  the  goods  that  had  been  returned  to 
them,  and  started  off  to  seek  along  the  coast, 
for  some  more  hospitable  place  of  rest. 

Lieutenant  Ferrand's  heart  now  felt  won- 
derfully light.  It  was  very  cheering  to  think 
that  after  all,  he  could  do  some  good  by  re- 
maining, for  a  time,  among  the  wreckers,  and 
restoring  to  ship-wrecked  people  as  much  of 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  137 

their  property  as  fell  to  the  shares  of  him- 
self and  Giles. 

It  was  not  until  an  hour  afterwards  that 
the  idea  struck  him, — "But  how,  then,  can 
I  do  anything  for  my  family,  if,  by  remain- 
ing'here,  I  gain  nothing  but  my  own  subsis- 
tence ?  *' 

The  more  he  thought  of  this  difficulty,  the 
worse  it  appeared.  He  felt  like  a  bird  en- 
tangled in  a  net,  vainly  beating  its  wings  in 
the  effort  to  fly,  but  becoming  every  moment 
more  involved  in  the  cunning  snare.  While 
Ferrand  was  pacing  up  and  down  his  room, 
trying  to  decide  what  course  he  should  pur- 
sue, there  was  a  rap  at  the  door,  and,  on  the 
Lieutenant's  saying,  "  come  in,"  Giles  made 
his  appearance. 

"  The  gale  is  blowing  up  hard  again,  sir," 
said  he,  "  and  there's  a.  vessel  going  to  pieces 
off  the  south-west." 
12* 


l:'>^  WEECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

"  We  must  try  and  save  the  men  on  board," 
said  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  eagerly. 

u  ( )h,  that  ain't  possible,  sir  !"  answered 
(Tiles.  "  She's  too  far  off,  and  the  sea's  too 
rough  for  a  small  boat  ever  to  get  near  her." 

On  looking  out  upon  the  ocean,  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  saw  that  this  was  indeed  true,  and 
even  while  he  looked,  the  ill-fated  vessel  dis- 
appeared entirely,  beneath  the  furiously  toss- 
ing waves. 

As  soon  as  the  gale  had  abated,  the  wreck- 
er.- were  out  in  their  boat>,  picking  up  what- 
ever articles  from  the  wreck  drifted  along 
upon  the  water,  and  bringing  up  some 
others  by  fishing  for  them  with  their  grap- 
pling irons. 

Having  no  better  occupation  at  present, 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  al><>  went  out  in  a  boat 
with  (iiles  and  Hugh,  and  assisted  in  gather- 
ing in  the  wrecker's  harvest.  On  returning 


WBECKKR'S    GRAM>-:CIIILI>.         131) 

to  the  shore  again,  lie  found  upon  tlie  beach 
the  hoilies  of  two  drowned  men,  one  of 
whom  was  the  commander  of  the  sunken 
vessel.  Some  of  the  wreckers  had  already 
-commenced  to  plunder  these  bodies,  and, 
after  taking  from  them  everything  of  value, 
gave  them  a  rude  and  hasty  burial. 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  knew  that,  by  the  let- 
ters and  other  papers  found  upon  the  drowned 
men. — by  marks  upon  their  clothing,  or 
.similar  means, — he  could  probably  find  out 
who  they  were,  and  where  their  families  re- 
sided ;  and  conscience  said,  to  those  families 
belonged  everything  of  value  that  had  been 
the  property  of  the  dead.  But  he  stifled 
these  thoughts,  and  said  to  himself,  "  I  can- 
not help  it.  I  inn-Kt  have  something  to  send 
to  Blanche." 

The  next  morning.  Lieutenant  Ferrand's 
yacht,  under  the  command  of  Giles,  sailed  to 


140  WKKCKKR'S  ^KAND-THILIX 

a  neighboring  sea-port,  to  <li>poMj  of  go<,,<~!> 
which  had  been  obtained  from  the  recent 
wrecks.  Giles  himself  was  too  ignorant  a 
man,  and  had  been  too  long  a  wrecker,  to 
perceive  that  he  was  doing  anything  amiss  in 
appropriating  the  property  of  the  drowned 
sailors,  and  his  wife  gravely  remarked,  "I'm 
Mire  it's  well  for  us,  and  for  them  poor  souls? 
too,  that  they've  all  gone  to  a  better  world  ; 
— for,  this  plan  of  the  Lieutenant's,  about 
keeping  nothing  for  yourself  if  there's  any- 
body else  to  claim  it,  may  all  sound  very 
good ;  but  you  and  I,  Giles,  can't  live  on. 
nothing,  and  we're  too  old  to  go  to  work !" 

Tn  a  few  days  the  yacht  returned,  and  the 
money  for  which  the  cargo  had  been  sold 
was  divided  among  the  wreckers. 

They  allotted  a  liberal  share  to  Lieutenant 
Ferrand,  and  he  immediately  dispatched  it 
in  a  letter  to  his  wife. 


\V  KECK  Kits    GKAND-CHILD.  14:1 

After  seeing  the  letter  duly  started  upon 
its  journey,  he  returned  to  his  own  apart- 
ment, locked  the  door,  and,  throwing  himself 
upon  his  bed,  buried  his  face  in  the  pillow, 
as  though  he  felt  himself  unworthy  to  be- 
hold the  light  of  day. 

"!N"ow,"  he  ejaculated,  "I  have,  indeed, 
fallen!  Francis  Ferrand,  whose  name  was 
never  mentioned  in  the  same  breath  with 
meanness  or  dishonor,  has  shared  with  vil- 
lains their  plunder,  and  kept  what  right- 
fully belonged  to  the  widow  and  orphan !" 

This  thought  made  the  unhappy  man 
writhe  as  if,  like  the  Mexican  Emperor  of 
old,  he  had  been  stretched  upon  a  bed  of 
burning  coals,  and  not  upon  the  couch  where 
only  the  night  before,  he  had  enjoyed  a 
sound  and  refreshing  sleep.  In  a  little  while, 
he  became  more  calm,  (though  not  more  con- 


KL'  WRECKERS  GRAXIM;HILI>. 

tented,)  and  then  he  asked  himself,  "But, 
how  did  I  ever  come  to  this  *" 

His  thoughts  ran  back  over  all  his  preced- 
ing life,  even  to  the  period  of  early  childhood. 
IN  saw  himself  again  fondled  in  the  arms  of 
that  sweet  mother  whose  only  fault  was  that 
she  could  see  nothing  in  her  darling  child 
but  what  was  lovable.  Again  he  heard  his 
father  telling  over,  with  proud  satisfac- 
tion, all  his  hopes  of  what  their  noble  boy 
would  prove  to  be,  in  the  future.  And  how 
much  Frank  had  been  loved  and  petted  by 
all  around  him,  whether  relations,  neighbors,, 
acquaintances  or  servants  !  He  was  so  pretty, 
so  intelligent,  so  good-humored  and  affec- 
tionate !  And,  in  addition  to  all  these  pleas- 
ing gifts  of  nature,  he  was  the  only  child  of 
wealthy  parents, — the  heir  of  luxury  and 
splendor. 

To  such  a  one,  the  Saviour  had  said,  of 


WBECKER'S  GKA^IXIIIILD.  143 


old,  "  one  thing  tliou  lackest  ;"  —  and  this  was 
Ferrand's  case,  but  yet  lie  knew  it  not. 

While  thinking  over  all  the  happy  past,  — 
that  had  now  vanished  as  completely  as  last 
night's  dream,  —  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was  a- 
roused  by  a  slight  tapping  at  his  room-door. 
He  rose  from  the  bed,  smoothed  back  his 
disordered  hair,  drank  a  glass  of  water,  and 
then,  with  seeming  composure,  unlocked  and 
opened  the  door.  Hugh  stood  there,  and 
said  modestly,  —  "  Mrs.  Giles  says  sir,  shall 
she  bring  your  supper  to  your  room  ?" 

u  No,  I  thank  her  ;"  answered  the  Lieuten- 
ant, "  I  shall  not  take  supper  this  evening. 
Have  you  had  yours  yet  Hugh?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  boy.  "Well,"  said 
Ferrand,  "  get  your  supper,  and  then  come 
to  me  again.  1  want  to  have  a  talk  with 
you.* 

"  Very   well,  sir  ;  —  but   1  know  that  Mrs, 


144  WRECKER'S  GKAXIM  HIU>. 

( i  ili-s  would  like  yon  to  eat  something.  You 
ai'nt  sick, — are  yon,  Lieutenant  Ferrand?" 

"  Xo  ; — only  tired.  Go,  now  ; — but  don't 
forget  to  come  again,  after  awhile."  Hugh, 
accordingly,  went  away  to  his  supper,  but 
made  that  meal  much  shorter  than  usual, 
from  a  wish  to  hear  as  soon  as  possible,  what 
it  was  that  Lieutenant  Ferrand  had  to  say  to 
him.  On  going  to  his  room  again,  he  found 
him  seated  in  an  old-fashioned,  high-backed, 
arm-chair,  which,  as  one  of  the  few  articles 
ot  luxury  that  Giles's  cottage  contained,  had 
been  placed  in  the  honored  boarder's  apart- 
ment. Ferrand  commenced  the  conversa- 
tion immediately,  by  saying,  Hugh,  you  are 
growing  to  be  a  very  tall  boy.  In  a  few 
years,  you  will  be  a  man.- — But,  have  you  any 
idea  what  you  intend  to  be,  when  you  grow 
ii])  r 

".No,    &ir,"     answered    Hugh,    earnestly, 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  145 

"  I've  thought  of  it,  many  a  time ; — but  still 
I  feel  just  like  somebody  that's  walking 
through  a  thick  fog,  and  can't  see  two  steps 
before  him !" 

"  That  is  pretty  much  the  case  with  me," 
said  Ferrand  with  an  involuntary  sigh.  "  But 
you  wouldn't  wish  to  be  a  wrecker,  like  these 
men  around  us  ?" 

Hugh  did  not  answer  immediately,  for  this 
question  had,  of  late,  been  puzzling  him  a  great 
deal.  Ever  since  he  first  knew  Lieutenant 
Fcmind,  he  had  regarded  him  as  a  faultless 
model  of  conduct,  and  as  one  who  had  at- 
tained the  highest  perfection  that  human 
nature  can  read i.  When  his  "bright  par- 
ticular star"  became  the  leader  of  the  wreck- 
ers, Hugh  did  not  presume  to  doubt  that 
now,  as  ever,  the  Lieutenant  was  doing  the 
best  thing  possible.  But,  since  Marianna 
had  given  Him  aunt  ^Naomi's  Bible,  Hugh 
13 


1-M',  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

had  been  studying  it  diligently,  and,  several 
times  had  visited  the  island,  to  obtain  !Mari- 
annu's  u»5stance  in  finding  out  the  meaning 
of  passages  which  perplexed  him.  He  soon 
perceived  that  from  the  eighth  command- 
ment in  the  Old  Testament  to  the  Golden 
Rule  in  the  Xew,  the  wreckers  were  break- 
ing all  the  laws  of  God,  and  he  began  to  feel 
like  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  when  he  first  discov- 
ered that  his  dwelling  was  in  the  city  of 
Destruction.  Yet  how  was  he  to  reconcile 
the  teachings  of  the  Bible,  in  this  respect, 
with  his  rooted  opinion  of  Lieutenant  F er- 
rand's infallibility  I  It  was  no  wonder  that, 
when  the  Lieutenant  himself  called  upon 
him  to  settle  this  delicate  question,  poor 
Hugh  at  first,  was  silent  and  confused,  and 
that  his  face  turned  a  very  deep  scarlet. 
"  Tell  me,"  repeated  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 


147 

"  do  von  wish  to  grow  up  to  be  a  wrecker, 
like  those  around  us?" 

"  Why,  sir,  what  else  can  I  be,  if  I  stay 
here,"  said  Hugh.  "  And  I'm  sure  I  want 
to  stay  here  as  long  as  you  do." 

"  But  you  shall  not,"  emphatically  rejoined 
Ferrand.  "  If  you  stay  here,  you  will  come 
to  IK»  a  lawless  ruffian,  with  very  little  more 
sense  or  feeling  than  the  rocks  in  yonder 
reef.  I  find  that  I  myself  have  committed 
a  great  mistake  by  consenting  to  become 
mixed  up  with  these  wreckers  ; — but  if  T  can 
help  it,  you  shall  not  be  ruined  by  my  folly.'"1 

"But  what  would  you  want  me  to  do, 
sir?"  asked  Hugh. 

"  I  will  send  you,"  answered  Ferrand,  "  to 
your  mother's  relations,  in  Tallahassee,  and 
they  must  put  you  in  the  way  of  learning  to 
make  a  decent  and  honest  living." 

"Oh,     Lieutenant    Ferrand,"     ejaculated 


WRECKER  fi 


Hugh,  with  a  full  heart.  —  "we  have  been  to- 
gether so  long  —  in  good  days  and  in.  bad  !" 

"I  know  it,"  said  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 
"and  I  have  ever  foniul  yon  a  good  and  faith- 
ful boy.  But  now  to  see  you  staying  for 
my  sake,  among  these  wreckers,  growing  into 
their  ways,  and  learning  nothing  that  is  good, 
would  only  make  me  more  unhappy  than  I 
am.  If  you  wish  to  comfort  me.  or  give  me 
pleasure,  leave  this  nest  of  thieves,  and  let 
me  hear  that  you  are  making  for  yourself  a 
place  among  respected  and  honorable  men. 
Will  you  do  this  >" 

"  Yes  sir;  —  I  will,"  answered  Hugh,  with 
a  powerful  effort. 

"That  is  right,"  said  Ferrand.  "Go,  now, 
bundle  up  your  clothes,  and  be  ready  to  leave 
this  place  early  to-morrow  morning.  ]>ut 
just  before  you  start,  let  me  have  another 
word  with  voii/' 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  1  9 

Hugh  bent  his  head,  in  silence,  and  left 
the  presence  of  Lieutenant  Ferrand. 

The  next  morning  he  stood  before  the 
Lieutenant  again,  dressed  for  his  journey, 
and  with  a  bundle  of  clothing  in  his  hand. 
Ferrand  gave  him  some  directions  as  to  the 
route  which  he  should  travel.  He  then  put 
into  young  Ross's  hand  a  few  gold  pieces, 
which  were  all  the  money  he  possessed, 
though  he  did  not  inform  Hugh  of  this 
fact. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "only  be  steady  and  in- 
dustrious, and  you  may  hope  for  a  contented 
and  comfortable  life, — perhaps  a  great  and 
noble  one.  Don't  be  sorry  that  you  are  be- 
ginning the  world  as  a  poor  boy,  with  noth- 
ing but  God  and  your  own  hands  to  depend 
upon  !  Be  thankful  that  you  have  no  chance 
to  waste  all  the  spring  of  your  life,  as  T  have 
done,  in  idleness,  and  amusement,  and  to  find 
13* 


150  WREOKK.KV    UKANJM   IIIIJ). 

yourself  at  three  and  thirty,  without  any  par- 
ticular way  of  earning  your  support,  ami 
with  habits  that  unfit  yon  for  plain  and  hon- 
est labor!  ?so,  Hugh; — I  hope  that  you 
will  be  able  to  giye  in  a  better  account. — 
Good-bye." 

He  extended  his  hand.  Hugh  elapsed  it 
in  both  bis  own,  and  for  two  or  three  minutes 
pressed  it  tightly  against  his  heart.  He  then 
released  that  band,  which  bad  never  touclu •<! 
him  except  in  kindness,  and  murmuring, 
"Good-bye  sir,"  moved  toward  the  door. 
Suddenly  be  stopped;  leaned  against  the  wall 
and  placed  one  arm  across  his  face.  Those 
were  no  idle,  boyish  teniv ! 

Hugh  felt  that  he  was  now,  in  all  likeli- 
hood, parting* forever  from  that  friend  whom 
he  had  so  admired,  reverenced,  and  loved. 

He  knew  that  his  departure  would  leave 
Lieutenant  Fenrand  in  the  midst  of  that 


WRECKER'S  OKAND-CHILD.  151 

rude  and  uncongenial  band  of  wreckers, 
without  a  single  face  to  look  upon  that  had 
become  familiar  to  him  in  happier  days.  It 
was  but  a  few  moments  that  Hugh  gave  way 
entirely,  and  then  he  fairly  ran  from  the 
room,  and  out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

HUGH     DISAPPEARS,   FOR    THE     PRESENT. TEB- 

RIBLE  STORM  AND  WRECK  OF  A  STEAM- 
SHIP.  LIEUTENANT    FERRAND    AND 

MARIANNA     FIND    GREAT  TREAS- 
URES   IN    THE    OCEAN. 

Lieutenant   Ferrand's    directions, 
Giles  was  waiting  in  a  small   boat, 
'to  convey  Hugh   for   some   distance 
along  the  coast. 

As  the  boat  put  off,  Hugh  looked  towards 
Yon  Ulden's  island,  and  saw  Marianna  stand- 
ing upon  the  shore.  He  had  no  chance  to 
bid  her  adieu  in  words,  but  he  took  off  his 
hat,  waved  it  towards  her,  and  then  drew 
from  his  bundle,  and  held  up  in  her  sight, 
the  Bible  which  she  had  given  him. 

(158) 


154  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Marianna  waved  her  hand  in  return, — un- 
derstanding that  Hugh  was  going  away, 
though  she  imagined  that  he  would  not  he 
absent  long. 

Towards  sunset,  the  next  day,  Marianna 
crossed  over  to  the  main-land,  in  order  to 
purchase  some  tobacco  for  her  grandfather's 
smoking,  which  was  his  chief  means  of  pass- 
ing away  time.  After  she  had  procured  the 
tobacco,  the  wrecker's  wife  from  whom  she 
bought  it,  insisted  upon  her  eating  some  fine 
strawberries,  which  she  set  before  her.  Then, 
as  it  was  fast  growing  dark,  Marianna  started 
off  towards  the  little  boat  which  had  brought 
her  from  the  island.  But  the  sky  had  now 
become  overspread  with  huge  black  clouds, 
and  a  breeze  was  blowing  which  caused  every 
tree-leaf  and  grass-blade  to  tremble  and  shud- 
der, as  if  in  dread  of  the  coming  storm. 
Just  as  Marianna  came  to  the  beach,  a  loud 


WRKrKKR's    <; HAND-CHILD.  1  55 

peal  of  thunder  was  lizard,  and  the  red  light- 
ning, with  its  zig-zag  line,  shot  through  the 
sal  »le  clouds  like  a  swift -falling  stream  of 
liquid  tire. 

"  Oh,  Peter,'-  exclaimed  Marianna  to  the 
colored  hoy,  who  was  just  about  getting  into 
the  boat,  "do  you  think  we  can  reach  the 
island  before  the  storm  conies  on?" 

Peter  shook  his  head  with  a  grave  and 
doubtful  look,  but  aceomodatingly  replied, 
"  Don't  know,  Miss ; — just  as  you  say." 

"  No ; — you  are  in  my  dominions,  now, 
and  I  have  something  co  say  about  it,"  smil- 
ingly remarked  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  who  had 
come  up  unobserved.  "Get  out  of  that 
boat,  Peter,  and  draw  it  up  on  shore.  Miss 
Marianna  will  not  attempt  to  go  across  until 
the  storm  is  over." 

"But,"  said  Marianna,  "I  am  afraid  that 
my  grandfather  will  be  uneasy  about  me,  if 


15ft  WRECKERS    GRAND-C1IELD. 

I  don't  conic  home  soon.  He  might  think 
that  I  had  tried  to  cross,  and  that  something 
had  happened  to  the  boat." 

"  He  would  think  so,  and  then  find  out 
that  he  had  made  only  too  true  a  gue»,  if 
you  did  attempt  to  cross,"  rejoined  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand. 

At  this  moment,  Marianna  saw  the  widow 
woman,  who  did  tha  heaviest  house-work  of 
Von  Ulden's  family,  come  down  to  the  island 
shore.  She  saw  upon  the  opposite  beach  the 
person  for  whom  she  was  looking,  and 
screamed  out,  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  "  Miss 
ALirianna,  don't  try  to  come  over  until  the 
storm's  done!" 

"  Xo,  she  will  not,"  called  out  Lieutenant 
Ferrand,  in  reply. 

Just  then,  there  arose  such  a  wind  as  im- 
1 11  jd lately  took  off  Peter's  hat  and  carried  it 
out  to  teua,  and  which  would  have  made  Ma- 


WBECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  15 T 

rianna  and  the  Lieutenant  undergo  similar 
losses,  if  they  had  not  seized  hold  of  their  hats 
at  the  critical  moment.  The  widow  ran  back 
to  Yon  Ulden's  house  as  fast  as  she  could, 
and  Mrs  Giles,  coming  to  the  door  of  the 
cottage,  cried  out,  "  Come  in  here,  Miss  Ma 
rianna,  quick  ! — Lieutenant,  hadn't  you  bet- 
ter come  in  ?" 

\Lirianna  at  once  accepted  the  invitation, 
and  took  the  chair  which  Old  Giles  placed 
for  her  in  the  sitting  room  of  the  cottage. 
Mrs.  Giles  sat  down  near  her,  and  knit- 
ted at  a  blue  yarn  stocking  while  she  talk- 
ed about  the  weather,  and  other  such  com- 
mon-place subjects.  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 
when  lie  came  in,  placed  himself  by  one  of 
the  windows,  and  looked  out  upon  the 
gathering  storm.  Xight  seemed  to  come 
more  quickly  than  usual,  and  it  was  a  night 
without  a  ray  from  moon  or  star.  Oan- 
14 


158  WRECKER'S  .;I:.\M>-<  IIILP. 

Jles  were  lighted  in  Giles's  dwelling  and  the 
other  cottages,  and  the  wreckers  looked  forth 
eagerly,  in  the  hope  that  some  sad  misfortune 
to  their  fellow  beings  might  bring  a  little 
worldly  profit  to  them.  There  were  fre- 
quent peals  of  thunder,  and  vivid  Hashes  of 
lightning,  that  gave  a  red  tinge  to  the  dusky 
waves  of  the  troubled  ocean,  and  showed 
their  white  crests  of  boiling  foam.  But  now, 
when  the  thunder's  voice  was  silent  for  a  lit- 
tle while,  another  booming  sound  was  heard. 
The  wreckers  quickly  recognized  the  minute 
guns  of  some  vessel  in  distress.  At  the  next 
lightning  Hash,  all  eyes  eagerly  scanned  the 
i,  ji:id  a  steam  vessel  was  seen,  driven 
along  towards  the  coast  by  the  furious  power 
of  wind  and  wave.  The  huge  surges  that 
dashed  over  her  decks,  and  the  violence  with 
which  she  was  pitched  from  side  to  side, 


WRECKER'S  GRAXD-CIIILD.  159 

showed  how  terrifying  and  full  of  confusion 
must  be  the  situation  of  those  on  board. 

Two  of  the  wreckers  entered  Giles's  cot- 
tage, and  one  of  them,  in  a  jovial  mood,  said 
to  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  "  Eh,  Commodore,  I 
guess  there'll  soon  be  some  pickings  off  that 
big  vessel !" 

Ferrand  made  no  reply,  but  looked  at  him 
with,  contempt,  and  then,  starting  up,  went 
forth  into  the  dark  and  stormy  night,  The 
steamer  4iad  been  driven  nearer  to  the 
coast,  and  suddenly  a  loud  crash  was  heard,, 
amidst  the  noise  of  the  winds  and  waters. 
At  the  same  instant,  there  went  up  a  shriek 
of  agony  from  hundreds  of  human  voices, 
and  words  of  earnest  supplication  to  God 
were  wrung  from  the  hearts  of  many  who,, 
when  they  were  safe  at  home,  had  mocked  at 
the  thought  of  prayer. 

All  of  the  wreckers  hurried  to  the  beach,, 


WKKCKKR  >    (rRAMM   HILI). 

:::id  many  of  their  wives  went  with  them,  no 

less  fearless  than  their  husbands,  and  no  less 
eager  in  their  desire  for  plunder. 

Others  like  Marianna  and  Mrs.  Giles,  re- 
mained in  their  cottages,  hut  pressed  their 
faces  against  the  window-panes,  in  an  en- 
deavor to  see  out  upon  the  darkened  ocean. 
Presently,  another  lightning  flash  displayed 
to  all  eyes  a  fearful  sight.  The  foundering 
steamer  lay  helplessly  upon  the  rocks,  and 
her  deck  was  covered  with  men,  women,  and 
children,  calling  wildly  for  help.  Again  the 
black  darkness  wrapped  them  all  up,  and 
oli,  how  dee})  a  gloom  was  that,  to  those  poor 
ship- wrecked  sulierors !  Marianna,  pale, 
-trembling,  and  heart-sick,  wrung  her  hands 
in  an  agony  of  sympathy,  and  then  clasped 
ihom  tightly  together,  as  she  leaned  against 
the  frame  of  the  window  }  y  wliir'h  she  stood. 

"  Oh,'"  said    she    to  herself,  "  if  the    poor 


101 

people  on  board  that  ship  would  only  think 
of  doing  as  annt  Xaomi  told  me  to  do,  when 
grandfather's  vessel  was  wrecked !  They 
would  not  feel  so  much  afraid  if,  instead  of 
looking  at  the  foundering  vessel,  or  the  terri- 
ble sea,  they  looked  right  up  to  God !" 

Marianna  resolved  that  she  herself  would 
do  this,  and  turning  her  gaze  away  from  the 
window,  she  poured  out  her  soul  in  supplica- 
tion to  God  for  those  who  were  in  such  fear- 
ful peril. 

Just  then,  another  lightning  flash  showed 
to  Ferrand,  and  the  other  lookers  on,  that 
the  steamer  was  rapidly  going  to  pieces,  and 
not  only  fragments  of  wreck  were  tossing 
on  the  waves,  but  also  the  struggling  bodies 
of  a  number  of  human  beings,  who  had  been 
washed  oil'  the  deck. 

Ferrand  had  been  silent  all  along,  for  he 
knew,  that,  without  ik  life-boats,''  it  would  be 
U* 


162  WRECKER'S  <;K.VMM:IHU>. 

impossible  to  reach  the  steamer.  But,  at  the 
sight  of  those  drowning  victims,  he  could  no 
longer  control  himself. 

"  AVhat  are  yon  going  to  do,  sir  ?"  exclaimed 
the  old  sailor.  "  How  will  drowning  jour- 
self  help  them  ?" 

Ferrand  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then 
ordered  the  wreckers  who  were  nearest  to 
him  to  bring  two  large  coils  of  rope. 

At  his  command,  two  men  took  hold  of 
one  end  of  a  rope,  while  the  other  end  was 
flung  out  upon  the  sea,  towards  the  nearest 
of  those  who  were  struggling  in  the  waves. 

The  other  rope  was  managed  l>y  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand  and  Giles,  but  the  first,  second, 
and  third  efforts  that  were  nude  to  throw 
the  lines  within  reach  of  any  of  the  sufferers 
proved  unsuccessful.  Then,  a  man  succeeded 
in  catching  one  of  the  ropes,  and  was  drawn 
on  shore  alive,  though  greatly  exhausted. 


THE  RESCUE.— Page  163. 


WUKCKKRti 


A  few  minutes  afterwards,  the  lightning's 
glare  showed,  tlio  winte-elad  figure  of  a 
woman,  driven  along  through  the  water, 
with  a  child  clasped  in  her  arms.  She  had 
on  a  life-preserver,  which  prevented  her  from 
sinking,  but  she  could  not  resist  the  power 
of  the  waves,  which  carried  her  along,  not 
towards  the.  shore,  hut  parallel  with  it, 
at  a  short  distance  off.  The  poor  lady  was 
too  faint  and  dizzy  to  utter  any  cry,  and  it 
was  easv  to  see  that  the  manner  in  which 
the  water  kept  dashing  over  them  would 
soon  drown  hoth  her  and  the  child. 

In  a  moment,  Lieutenant  Ferrand  tied   . 
curely  around  his  own  waist,  one  end  of  tin 
rope  which  he  was  helping  to  hold.     Giles 
and  another  then  grasped  the  opposite  end, 
and  Ferraiid  plunged  into  the  breakers. 

The  big  waves  caught  him  and  swept  him 
wildly  along,  while  he  was  almost  suffocated 


GRAND-CHILD. 

by  the  spray  which  dashed  into  his  face. 
He  saw  the  gleam  of  white  garments  through 
the  darkness,  sprang  forward  and  seized 
them,  and  found  that  he  had  hold  of  the 
mother  and  child  whom  he  was  so  anxious  to 
>;tve.  "  Pull  me  in,"  he  shouted.  In  a  few 
moments  he  was  dragged  on  shore,  holding 
the  insensible  woman  in  a  clasp  not  less  res- 
olute and  faithful  than  that  with  which  she 
held  her  little  child.  Pausing  but  for  a 
moment,  to  recover  his  breath,  Ferrand  car- 
ried the  mother  and  child  together  to  Giles's 
cottage.  As  their  clothing  was  soaked  and 
streaming  with  water,  he  laid  them  upon  a 
wooden  settle,  until  they  should  be  relieved 
of  their  wet  garments.  There,  senseless  and 
pale,  they  lay,  and  the  mother's  long  bi'own 
hair,  all  loose  and  drenched,  trailed  down  up- 
on the  iloor.  Before  he  left  her  to  the  kind- 
ness of  Mis.  (riles,  Lieutenant  Ferrand  cast 


WBECKKB  8    UKAND-CIIILD.  ]»>;> 

one  anxious  glance  at  the  lady's  face,  to  !>c 
certain  that  life  yet  remained.  In  saving 
her  life,  he  had  much  over-taxed  his  bodily 
strength,  though  he  did  not  feel  it  at  the 
time. 

And  now  he  made  a  discovery  which,  com- 
ing immediately  after  that  terrible  battle 
with  the  waves,  completely  overpowered  him. 
He  suddenly  became  unconscious,  and  would 
have  fallen  to  the  floor,  if  Giles  had  not 
caught  and  supported  him.  He  was  carried 
to  his  own  room,  and,  as  no  one  suspected 
the  true  cause  of  his  fainting,  Giles  felt  afraid 
that  the  Lieutenant  had  received  some  severe 
hurt,  in  being  dragged  upon  the  shore. 

Mrs.  Giles  and  Marianna  were  now  left 
alone  with  the  half-drowned  lady  and  child, 
and  in  looking  at  the  affecting  sight  before 
her,  the  wrecker's  wife  became  a  kind  and 
pitying  woman,  Xever,  since  aunt  Naomi's 


UiC  WRECKERS  GRANIM  IIILI». 

death,  had  Marianna  had  her  inmost  heart 
so  thrilled  as  it  was  now.  Her  hands  quivered 
with  agitation,  while  she  assisted  Mrs.  Giles 
in  removing  the  wet  clothing  of  the  sufferers. 

As  a  devout  Catholic  girl,  in  similar  cir- 
cumstances, might  have  invoked  her  favorite 
saints,  so  Marianna,  without  knowing  that 
she  spoke  aloud,  kept  uttering  such  ejacula- 
tions as  "  Dear  Jesus,  spare  them  ! — Let  them 
live  !— Teach  us  what  to  do  for  them  !" 

Soon  the  ship-wrecked  lady,  dressed  in  a 
coarse,  hut  snow-white  night-gown,  lay  upon 
Mrs.  Giles's  bed,  still  in  an  unconscious  state. 
Her  long  brown  tresses  were  spread  out  up- 
on the  pillow,  on  either  side  of  a  face  whose 
features  were  so  delicate,  and  fair,  and  pale, 
and  so  full  of  pure  and  sweet  expression, 
that  Marianna  felt  as  if  she  were  gazing  up- 
on the  slumbers  of  a  seraph.  The  little  girl 
had  already  regained  her  consciousness, — for 


1(57 

a  mother's  arms  had  been  some  shelter  to  her, 
even  against  the  roughness  of  the  waves. 
She  was  not  quite  three  years  old,  and  her 
age  and  circumstances  strongly  recalled  to 
Marianna  that  scene  in  her  own  life  which, 
though  it  had  happened  so  long  ago,  could 
never  he  lost  to  memory.  How  could  she 
help  thinking  of  the  time  when  she, — but 
little  older  than  this  child, — had  heen  cast 
by  shipwreck  upon  the  same  coast  ? — The 
first  use  which  the  little  girl  made  of  her  re- 
covered voice  was  to  call  again  and  again 
upon  her  mamma,  and  beg  her  to  uwake 
np,"  and  then,  finding  that  no  answer  was 
returned,  she  began  to  cry  pite<n:.-!y.  !Ma- 
riannaheld  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  by 
her  caresses  and  loving  words,  succeeded 
in  partly  soothing  its  agitation. 

Presently,  the  mother  heaved  a  faint  sigh, 
unclosed  a  pair  of  clear,  mild,  hazel  eyes,  and 


1<-^  WRECKER'S  GRANIM  itiijt. 

looked  around.  Marianna  immediately  plac- 
ed the  little  girl  upon  the  bed,  beside  her,  and 
the  child  full  of  joy  at  meeting  once  more  its 
mother's  tender  gaze,  twined  its  arms  about 
her  neck,  and  kissed  her  again  and  again. 
Instantly  the  mother's  arms  were  around 
her  little  girl,  a  smile  of  rapture  lighted  np 
her  face,  her  eyes  were  raised  to  Heaven, 
and  her  lips  moved,  though  no  sound  was 
heard  by  mortal  ears.  But  the  happiness  of 
that  moment  was  too  great  for  her  weakened 
frame ;  her  head  fell  upon  the  little  child's 
shoulder,  and  she  again  became  ii^ensible. 
This  time,  however,  she  soon  revived  again, 
and  lay  gazing  at  her  little  girl,  and  receiving 
her  caresses,  with  a  smile  of  tranquil  joy, 
though  two  large  tears  were  stealing  gentlj 
down  her  cheeks. 

Marianna,  in  the  warmth  of  her  heart,  em- 
braced   aud  kissed  the  unknown  lady,  and 


WBECKEKS  GRAND-CHILD.  1H 

told  her  how  glad  she  was  to  see  her  so  far 
recovered. 

"  Thank  von,  dear  sweet  girl,"  was  the  af- 
fectionate reply ;  "  you  are  as  good  as  you 
are  lovely." 

Both  the  mother  and  the  child,  tired  out  MS 
they  were,  soon  dropped  into  a  sound  and 
refreshing  sleep.  While  she  and  Marianna 
were  watching  them,  Mrs.  Giles  heard  some 
one  enter  the  outer  room  of  the  cottage,  and, 
going  to  see  who  it  was,  she  met  Lieutenant 
Ferrand. 

"Ah,  how  do  you  feel,  now,  sir !"  asked 
Mrs.  Giles ;  "  you  seemed  faintish,  a  little 
while  ago." 

"I  am  well," — said  he,  hastily.  "How  is 
my  wife  ?" 

"  Your  wife,  sir !" 

"Yes! — That  lady, —  tell  me, —  how  is 
she?" 

15 


170  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

••  Why.  the  lady  and  her  little  girl  are 
both  getting  along  nicely.  But,  you  don't 
mean  to  say,  Lieutenant,  that  this  is  "Mis. 
Ferrand  C' 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  answered  he, — "  though 
little  did  I  dream  of  its  being  my  own  wife 
.and  child  that  I  was  carrying  through  the 
breakers !"  He  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands  for  a  conple  of  moments,  and  then, 
looking  up  with  sudden  animation,  exclaimed, 
*'  Hut  now  I  mnst  see  them !" 

"  AVell,  I  wouldn't  to-night.  Lieutenant,  if 
I  \\vre  y< »u."  said  ^Mis.  (iih->.  "You  know 
the  lady, — Mrs.  Ferrand.- — is  most  wore  ont 
bv  what  she's  gone  through  with,  and  she 
iind  the  little  girl  have  just  dropped  into  a 
nice,  sweet  sleep,  that'll  do  them  more  good 
than  a  bushel  of  medicine." 

"  I  will  not  wake  them,"  said  Ferrand, 
"  only  let  me  see  them." 


GRAND-CHILD.  l»i 

"  Very  well,  sir  ; — but  step  easy,''  saict 
Mrs.  Giles,  leading  the  way  into  the  other 
room. 

For  several  minutes,  Ferrand  stood  gazing 
upon  his  wife  and  child,  in  motionless  silence, 
while  Mrs.  Giles,  in  a  whisper  told  Marian- 
iia  of  the  strange  discovery  that  had  been 
made. 

u  Oh,  it  is  wonderful,"  whispered  Marian- 
iia,  "  but  God  can  do  anything." 

At  length  Ferrand  roused  himself,  and 
noiselessly  placing  a  chair  by  the  bed-side, 
said  in  a  low  tone,  to  Mrs.  Giles,  "  I  will  sit 
and  watch  by  them  here  to-night." 

Mrs.  Giles  and  Marianna  accordingly 
withdrew  to  their  own  places  of  rest  for  the 
night.  Ferrand  sat  for  hours,  gazing  with  a 
host  of  thoughts  and  emotions,  upon  his 
sleeping  treasures,  and  it  was  not  till  near 
morning  that,  overcome  by  fatigue,  his  head 


172  WKKCKKIJ  8    GRAND-CHILD. 

isiink  down  in  slumber  upon  the  same  pillow 
where  reposed  his  little  girl. 

Marianna  lay  awake  lor  a  good  while, 
thinking  over  the  strange  events?  of  the  night. 
Already  she  felt  that  she  should  enjoy  a  good 
deal  of  pleasure  in  the  company  of  Mi>. 
FeriMiid  and  her  little  girl,  and  rejoitv.!  over 
them  as  two  pure,  bright  jewel.-,  cast  by  the 
waves  of  ocean  upon  that  wild  and  almost 
savage  coast. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AFTER   THE    STORM. BLANCHE    FERRAND  DIS- 
COVERS THAT  HER  HUSBAND  IS  A  WRECK- 
ER  PLEASANT  CHANGES  TAKE  PLACE 

IN  MABI ANNA'S  HOME. 

morning,  the  sky  was  blue  and 
sunny  as  ever  before,  and  the  ocean 
lay  in  smooth  and  bright  repose. 
The  trees  and  grass  wore  a  fresher  green  after 
the  last  night's  rain,  and  on  Yon  TTlden's 
island,  the  orange  blossoms,  and  wax-like 
magnolias,  scattered  around  a  richer  perfume 
than  usual. 

But,  on  the  white  sand  of  the  beach  oppo- 
site that  island,  lay  here  and  there  the  bodies 
of  drowned  men,  women  and  children. 
Some  had,  the  day  before,  been  poor  and 
humble,  and  others  rich  and  proud,  but  there- 
lo*  (178) 


174  WKECXEIi's    GKAN1MJ11ILJ). 

were  no  such  distinctions  among  them  now. 
The  great  and  only  difference  was,  that  nune 
out  <>f  the  blackness  of  that  stormy  night 
had  soared  up  to  the  eternal  noonday  of 
Heaven,  and  others,  when  they  sank  beneath 
the  sea,  went  down  into  that  dark  and  fear- 
ful abyss  from  which  lost  souls  shall  never 
rise  again.  But,  without  one  thought  of 
the  awful  lesson  before  their  eyes,  the  wreck* 
er>  walked  along  the  beach,  and  greedily 
gathered  up  what  articles  of  value  had  been 
w;i>lu-d  ashore  that  morning.  During  al- 
must  the  whole  of  the  previous  night,  they 
had  been  busy,  by  the  light  of  pine  torches, 
in  collecting  the  spoils  of  the  wreck.  Even 
the  children  now  ran  along  the  shore,  pick- 
ing up  what  they  could,  and  laughing  and 
shouting  with  more  than  usual  gaiety. 

All  night,  Blanche  Kerrand's  dream*  had 
been,  that  she  and  her  child  were  once  more 


WRECKER'S   OR AXD-CII i r,u.          1 7.r» 

re-united  with  the  husband  and  father ; — and 
when,  in  the  morning,  she  awoke,  and  found 
him  indeed  watching  over  them,  it  was  a  mo- 
ment of  wild,  unutterable  joy, — yet  mixed 
with  a  fear  that  this  too  might  be  only  a 
•dream.  She  did  not  give  one  thought  to  the 
feet  that  all  her  Avorldly  possessions  had  been 
on  bo;trd  of  the  wrecked  steamer,  and  were 
now,  most  probably,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
sea.  Her  husband  and  child  were  the  only 
earthly  objects  upon  which  her  heart  was 
set,  and  they, — thanks  to  the  all-merciful 
One, — were  now  safe  and  well,  beside  her. 

Marianna  at  the  first  dawn  of  morning, 
had  hastened  over  to  the  island,  to  assure 
her  grandfather  of  her  safety,  and  to  be 
scolded  by  him  for  being  caught  in  the 
storm  while  on  the  mainland,  though  he 
knew  perfectly  well  that  she  could  not  pos- 
siblv  avoid  it.  After  taking  breakfast  with 


170  WRECKER'S  OUA.MM-HILD. 

her  grandfather,  Mariamia   cleared   off  the 

table,  and  washed  and  put  away  the  dixies. 
She  then  changed  her  dress,  put  on  her  h:it, 
and  promising  her  grandfather  that  she  would 
soon  return,  crossed  over  to  the  mainland,  to 
>ee  how  Mrs.  Ferrand  and  her  little  girl 
were.  The  gush  of  happiness  which  she 
felt  at  finding  herself,  her  husband  and  child 
once  more  re-united,  seemed  to  restore  al- 
most immediately  Blanche's  bodily  strength, 
and  Marianna  found  her  sitting  up  in  the 
great,  high-backed  arm  chair  in  Lieutenant 
Kerrand's  room.  She  wore  a  flowing  white 
gown,  her  hair  was  neatly  braided,  and  Ma- 
i  lamia  now,  for  the  first  time,  had  the  op- 
portunity of  judging  how  very  neat  and 
pleading  was  Mrs.  Ferrand's  appearance. 
The  granddaughter  of  Von  Ulden  im- 
mediately hastened  up  to  Blanche,  exclaim- 
ing, "Dear  Mrs.  Ferrand,  I'm  so  glad  to  find 


WKKCKEJj's    G  HAND-CHILD.  177 

that  yon  are  not  sick,  after  that  terrible  last 
night !" 

Blanche  cordially  returned  her  kiss  and 
embrace,  and  said  to  her  husband,  who  sat 
beside  her,  "  This  is  another  great  pleasure 
for  me,  in  finding  here  such  a  dear  girl  as 
Maria." 

"Marianna" — gently  observed  the  Lien- 
tenant,  by  way  of  correction.  "  Well,"  was 
the  smiling  reply,  "  I  think  I  have  already 
learned  her  nature,  if  not  her  name,  and  a 
charming  nature  it  is." 

After  a  moment's  pause,  Mrs.  Ferrand's 
countenance  suddenly  clouded  over,  with  an 
expression  of  sadness,  and  in  a  low  voice, 
she  said,  "  Frank,  there  is  one  thing  that  I 
would  wish  to  know,  and  yet  I  am  afraid  to 
hear  it.  Of  all  the  people  who  woke  up, 
well  and  cheerful,  on  board  that  steamer, 
yesterday  morning,  how  many  are  there  now 


17^  \VKK<;KKK'S  GKANIM  IIILD. 

living  upon  earth,  besides  Bessie  and  me  C " 
lk  Indeed,  I  do  not  know,  as  yet,"  answered 
Lieutenant  Ferrand,  "but  we  cannot  help 
knowing  this,  that  only  a  few, — a  very  few 
;>f  them  can  possibly  have  any  more  of  this 
world's  storms  to  go  through  with." 

There  was  a  silence  for  some  minutes,  and 
then  Lieutenant  and  Mrs.  Ferrand  began  to 
converse  about  the  impressive  fact  that 
Blanche  and  her  child  were  among  the  very 
few  that  were  rescued,  and  that  the  appointed 
means  of  their  rescue  was  a  husband  and  a 
father's  arm.  Marianna  had  taken  little 
I>e>siu  upon  her  lap,  and  was  busied  in  pet- 
ting and  admiring  her.  She  was  a  plump 
:md  healthy  child,  and  her  face  had  that 
dimpled  roundness  which  \ve  all  like  to  see 
in  little  ones  of  her  age.  Her  complexion, 
like  her  mother's  was  most  delicately  fair  ; 
but  the  form  of  her  features,  her  eyes, — so 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  I  79 

darkly  blue,  and  fringed  with  such  long  jet- 
ty lashes,  and  the  "blackness  of  her  hair,  gave 
her  a  strange  resemblance  to  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand.  Seeing  that  the  child's  hair  had  been 
trained  to  cluster  in  thick  short  curls,  Marian- 
na  employed  herself  in  arranging  it  so,  and 
then  viewed  with  delight  the  contrast  which 
those  curls  afforded  to  Bessie's  pink  cheeks, 
and  her  brow  and  neck  of  purest  white. 
The  little  one  had  a  very  slight  idea  of  the 
danger  in  which  she  and  her  mother  had 
been,  the  night  before,  and  she  did  not  see 
anything  strange  in  her  father's  being  with 
them  again.  On  the  morning  just  before 
the  shipwreck,  her  mother  had  promised  her 
that  they  should  "  soon  see  Papa,"  and  Bessie 
had  full  faith  in  that  promise. 

AsMarianna  had  told  her  grandfather  that 
she  wo.nld  soon  return,  she  was  obliged,  in  M 


lv'>  WRECKERS  <;K.v\]»-riiiu,>. 

little  while,  to  bid  good-bye  t->  Mr>.  Ferrand 
and  Bessie,  and  go  back  to  the  island. 

A  few  moments  after  she  had  gone,  the 
wreckers  came  crouching  into  Giles's  cot- 
tage, bringing  with  them  the  things  which 
they  had  secured  from  the  wreck,  and  which 
they  now  wished  to  have  fairly  divided 
among  them. 

Mrs.  Fcrrand  was  >tartled  to  hear  through 
a  thin  woo;U>n  partition,  those  loud  and 
rough  voices,  uttering  oaths, — rude  contra- 
dictions.— and  expressions  of  unfeeling  tri- 
umph over  the  (quantity  of  plunder  which 
they  had  gained.  "Where's  the  ('oiiinio- 
uorc  f  was  frequently  asked  in  boistemu.- 
tones. 

*•  For  whom  are  all  those  men  asking  f 
inquired  Mrs.  Ferrand,  looking  with  won- 
der, at  I1."!1  husband. 

"For  me/'  answered   Ferrand,  forcing  a 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  181 

smile,  but  at  the  same  time  feeling  his  face 
suffused  with  that  painful  blush  which  comes 
when,  before  those  whom  we  most  respect 
and  love,  we  are  compelled  to  own  that  the 
low  and  degraded  are  our  companions. 

Seeing  with  what  intense  anxiety  Blanche 
was  gazing  at  him,  Ferrand  went  on  to  say, 
with  assumed  cheerfulness,  "  These  fellows 
have  made  me  a  sort  of  judge  over  them, 
and  as  they  are  willing  to  carry  out  almost 
any  orders  that  I  choose  to  give, — they  call 
me  their  Commodore.  I  must  go,  now,  and 
see  what  I  can  do  for  them." 

Accordingly,  he  went  into  the  other  room, 
and  the  clamor  of  the  wreckers  subsided  in- 
to something  as  much  like  quietness  as  could 
be  expected  from  a  party  of  such  rude  and 
uncultivated  men.  Among  the  articles 
which  they  had  secured  was  a  trunk  belong- 
ing to  Mrs.  Ferrand,  and  marked  with 
16 


182  \VK1X:  KKIi's    GRAND-CHILD. 

her  name,  and  this  was  given  to  herhusband 
as  a  part  of  his  share.  As  usual,  there  were 
articles  among  the  plunder  that  caused,  be- 
tween certain  of  the  wreckers,  disputes  which 
it  taxed  all  their  Commodore's  ingenuity 
and  his  patience  also  to  settle.  At  length, 
the  division  was  made,  and  the  wreckers, 
some  with  satisfaction,  and  some  with  sulki- 
ness, — each  carried  off  his  share.  Ferrand 
and  Giles  then  took  hold  of  Blanche's  trunk, 
and  brought  it  into  the  room  where  she  was. 

"  AVell,  dear,  you  and  Bessie  will  have  some 
clothes  now,*'  said  the  Lieutenant,  smiling. 

Blanche  tried  to  smile  in  return,  but  her 
heart  was  too  anxious  in  regard  to  a  far  more 
important  subject.  As  soon  as  Giles  had  left 
the  room,  she  said  to  her  husband,  inquir- 
ingly,— "  And  these  men  are  wreckers  C ' 

"  Yes  ;"  replied  he,  "  but,  Blanche,  you 
must  not  suppose, — as  many  people  do, — that 


WRECKER'S  <;KAMM;HIM>.  183 

a  man  cannot  be  a  wrecker  without  being  a 
robber  !" 

"  Ob,"  said  Blanche,  with  an  accent  of  dis- 
tress, "•  the  very  conversation  of  those  men 
shows  that  they  are  wicked,  lawless,  and  har- 
dened ; — and  it  bewilders  me  to  try  to  think 
how  you,  Frank,  can  be  willing  to  live  among 
such  people." 

Ferrand  had  expected  some  such  remon- 
strance as  this,  and  yet,  when  it  came,  it  cut 
none  the  less  deeply.  Throwing  himself  in- 
to a  chair,  with  that  affected  carelessness  cf 
manner  witli  which  people  sometimes  try  to 
hide  real  despair,  he  said,  "  I  cannot  help  it. 
I  would  rather  get  my  living  and  yours  from 
wreckers,  than  from  cert.mi  kind  relations  of 
ours.  I  have  failed  in  every  tiling,  and  now, 
we  cannot  be  so  fastidious." 

"  Dear  Frank,  don't  say  so !  T  care  nothing 
for  a  large  house,  line  furniture,  or  cosily 


184:  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

-es ; — for  as  long1  as  we  have  free  con- 
sciences, unspotted  names,  and  the  right  to 
claim  God  as  our  friend,  I  feel  that  we  aiv 
rich,  and  I  am  happy.  But  to  lose  our 
peace  within, — our  self-respect, — to  lose  the 
privilege  of  asking  God  to  help  us,  even  in 
our  extremest  need, — Oh,  tlmt  is  poverty!" 
As  Blanche  spoke  thus  earnestly,  she  held 
her  husband's  hand  clasped  in.  both  of  hers, 
and  large  bright  drops,  from  the  heart's  in- 
most fountains  flowed  rapidly  down  her 
cheeks.  I'Yrrund  was  deeply  moved,  and 
yet  he  thought  it  would  heighten  his  wife's 
distress  if  he  owned  that  he  was  really  en- 
gaged in  a  pursuit  which  went  against  his 
conscience.  Neither  would  he  let  her  know 
under  what  circumstances  he  had  becomethe 
leader  of  the  wreckers.  He  knew  that  it 
would  only  increase  her  hormr  of  them  to 
be  told  that  when  he  was  tirst  thrown 


WRECKER'S  GKAMM-IIILD.  185 

among  them,  they  had  plundered  him  of 
everything,  and  threatened  t<>  h.ing  him. 
While  lie  was  casting  al.mit  in  hit-  mind  for 
something  to  say,  there  was  a  rap  at  the  room 
door.  Mrs.  Ferrand  wiped  away  lier  tears, 
and  the  Lieutenant  went  to  the  door,  and 
opened  it. 

Mrs.  (riles  was  there,  and  she  informed 
the  Lieutenant  that  a  lady,  who  had  escaped 
from  the  wreck,  wished  to  see  Mrs.  Ferrand. 
The  lady  was  immediately  invited  to  come 
in,  and  proved  to  he  a  Mrs.  Stillirigwell, 
whom  .Blanc-he  had  found,  during  the  voy- 
age, a  very  pleasant  and  intelligent  acquaint- 
ance. They  met  now,  as  old  and  intimate 
friends  meet,  after  he  ing  long  parted, — so 
gladdening  was  it  to  see  any  survivor  from 
last  night's  scene  of  death.  Yet  Mrs.  Still- 
ingwell had  a  sorrowful  story  to  tell.  Her 
eldest  son,  a  lad  of  seventeen,  had  been  with 
16* 


186  WKEClvEK's    GKAND-CH1LU. 

her  on  board  the  steamer,  and  had  perished. 
But  he  was  a  Christian  youth,  one  of  that 
noble  "  Sabbath-school  army,"  who  in  life, 
are  Christ's  soldiers, — in  death,  His  witnes.— 
es.  His  mother  knew  that,  from  the  d;irl\ 
waves  of  a  stormy  ocean,  he  had  risen  to  be 
with  those  of  whom  it  has  truly  been  sung, 

';  Their  sorrows  now  are  o'er ; 

The  sea  is  calm,  the  tempest  past. 

On  that  eternal  shore." 

Yet,  there  was  one  seemingly  trifling  inci- 
dent, which  that  morning  had  sent  a  pang 
through  the  freshly  wounded  and  still 
bleeding  heart  of  the  bereaved  mother.  Her 
son,  when  he  was  drowned,  -had  on  a  beauti- 
ful watch  chain,  which  he  greatly  prized,  and 
which  he  had  received  from  his  mother  as  a 
birth-day  gift,  two  years  before.  While  on 
her  way  t<>  see  Mrs.  Ferrand,  Mrs.  Stilling- 
well  noticed  this  chain,  which  her  dead  bov 


187 

li:ul  so  dearly  valued,  worn  as  a  necklace  by 
a  sun-burned,  rough-haired,  bare-footed  girl 
of  fourteen,  wlio  said  that  her  mother  got 
it  for  her,  after  the  wreck.  Mrs.  Stilling- 
well  told  the  girl  that  this  chain  had  belonged 
to  her  son,  and  begged  that  ifc  might  be  re- 
stored to  her,  but  "  Spunky  Poll,"  as  she 
was  generally  called,  answered  by  a  rude  and 
saucy  refusal.  Mrs.  Stillingwell  sobbed  bit- 
terly as  she  related  this  affair  to  Mrs.  Fer- 
rand, and  Blanche  felt  for  her  the  sincerest 
sympathy. 

"Perhaps  you  can  do  something  in  this 
case,  Frank,""  said  Blanche  to  her  husband. 

"  I  shall  be  very  willing  to  tr,"  answered 
Lieutenant  Ferrand,  and  he  immediately  sent 
u  Spunky  Poll,"  and  her  mother,  a  request 
that  they  would  come  for  a  few  minutes,  to 
Giles's  cottage.  In  a  short  time  they  came, 
and  after  nodding  to  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 


!>•*  WRECKERS  GRAND-CHILD. 

>tared  at  his  wife  with  intense  curio>itv. 
Little  Bessie,  having  taken  one  look  at  the>e 
strangers,  ran  and  hid  her  face  in  her  mother'.* 
lap,  alarmed  by  their  wild  and  rough  appear- 
ance. Polly's  mother  was  bare-footed  also, 
and  never  at  any  season  of  the  year  wore  any 
covering  upon  her  head  except  her  coarse 
hair,  which  hung  down  her  back  in  a  sort  of 
loosely  twisted  rope.  1 1  er  face  was  roughened 
by  exposure  to  all  kinds  of  weather,  but 
this  was  a  mere  trifle  compared  with  the  un- 
pleasantness of  her  expression,  which  was 
harsh,  and  forbidding  in  the  extreme. 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  had  always  been  con- 
sidered as  having  more  than  common  powers 
of  persuasion;  and  he  now  represented  to 
Polly  and  her  mother,  in  the  most  moving 
manner,  the  anxiety  which  Mrs.  Stillingwcll 
felt  to  take  home  with  her  the  keepsake  be- 
longing to  that  son  whom  she  had  just  lost. 


WKKCKKK'S    GRAND-CHILD.  I8t» 

Polly,  however,  clutched  the  chain  with  a 
greedy  look  which  showed  that  nothing 
could  weigh  with  her  against  the  possession 
of  s;>  fine  an  ornament  ;  and  her  mother 
said,  "  Pshaw,  Lieutenant,  don't  try  to  get 
around  ns  with  all  this  palaver !  I  waded 
out  into  the  breakers  at  day-light  this  morn- 
ing, and  got  that  chain  off  the  dead  body, 
that  didn't  care  no  more  about  chains  nor 
nothing; — and  so  it  was  mine,  'cordin'  to  all 
the  wrecker's  rules,  and  now  I've  give  it  to 
Poll,  it's  Jiern" 

"Well,  Polly,"  said  the  Lieutenant^  kfc  I 
will  buy  this  chain,  if  you  will  sell  it  to  me. 
You  know  the  yacht  is  going  to  start  oil  this 
morning,  and  when  it  comes  back  1  shall 
have  some  money.  A  string  of  red  beads 
would  be  much  more  becoming  to  you  than 
that  chain  is,  and  by  selling  it  to  me,  you  can 


190  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

get  enough  money  to  buy  beads,  ear-rings, 
and  a  couple  of  gay  dresses." 

Polly  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
in  the  tone  of  one  who  felt  herself  to  be 
much  persecuted,  she  whimpered  out,  "  But 
I'd  rather  have  this." 

"  So  you  shall  have  it,"  said  her  mother 
with  a  fiercer  look  and  tone ;  "  I  didn't  get 
it  for  you  to  sell,  and,  if  you  let  anybody 
coax  you  out  of  it,  I'll  give  you  theawfullest 
pounding  that  you  ever  had  !" 

Mrs.  Stillingwell,  during  this  conversation, 
had  been  sitting  in  the  farthest  corner 
of  the  room,  with  her  face  turned  to 
the  wall,  ancl  she  now  said  faintly,  without, 
looking  round,  "  Lieutenant,  it  is  useless  for 
you  to  take  any  more  trouble  about  the 
matter.  Let  these  people  go  away." 

At  that  moment,  a  new  idea  struck  Mi  s. 
Ferrand.  Forgetting  her  weak  and  wearied 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  11)1 

state,  she  rose  hastily  from  her  chair,  went 
to  the  trunk  which  had  heen  returned  to  her 
that  morning,  and  kneeling  down  before  it, 
opened  the  lock  by  pressing  a  skillfully  con- 
trived spring.  She  then  brought:  out  a  long 
and  very  elegant  gold  chain,  and,  holding  it 
up,  said  to  Ferrand,  "  Frank,  this  was  one  of 
your  gifts  to  me,  and  I  cannot  part  with  it 
except  by  your  consent,  but  T  know  you  will 
consent  for  me  to  ransom  with  it  that  chain 
of  Mrs.  Stillingwell." 

"  Certainly,  dear,  and  T  shall  think  all  the 
more  of  you  for  being  willing  to  give  it  up, 
for  such  a  purpose  as  that,"  answered  the 
Lieutenant. 

Polly  and  her  mother  both  saw  at  once, 
that  Mrs.  Ferrand's  chain  was  a  greater 
prize  than  that  which  belonged  to  young 
Still  ingwell,  but  they  were  perfectly  aston- 
ished at  what  they  considered  the  lady's  folly 


I'.'i'  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

and  simplicity,  in  making  such  a  sacrifice. 
P<»lly  strutted  triumphantly  away,  with 
Blanche's  chain  around  her  neck,  and  Mrs. 
Stillingwell  held  in  her  hands,  and  pro.-ed 
jigainst  her  heart,  the  loved  memento  of  her 
dead  son.  She  felt  so  much  gratitude  and 
attachment  to  Blanche  that  it  seemed  almost 
impossible  to  part  from  her,  and  yet  she  was 
obliged  very  soon  to  tear  herself  away.  She 
and  the  other  survivors  of  the  wreck,  were 
to  go,  that  morning,  on  board  of  Ferrand's 
yacht,  and  be  conveyed  to  the  nearest  town 
upon  the  coast 

After  Mrs.  Stillingwell  had  gone,  Blanche 
reflected,  in  silence,  for  a  little  while,  upon 
the  incident  which  we  have  just  related,  and 
then  she  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  sorrowful 
significance,  "  Oh,  Frank,  if  even  the  women 
•nl  children  among  these  wreckers  are  so 
l.::r<:<'ned,  what  must  the  men  be  ?" 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  103 

But  Ferrand  now  brought  up  the  excuse 
which  Giles  had  suggested  to  him  when  he 
first  came  to  Florida,  and  assured  his  wife 
that  he  wished  to  stay  among  the  wreckers, 
for  a  while,  with  the  hope  of  making  them 
better.  Xow,  Blanche  knew  that  nothing 
could  effect  this  except  the  power  of  gospel 
faith,  and  that  as  her  husband  himself  was 
not  under  its  influence,  he  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  lead  others  to  Jesus.  But  she  only 
said,  "  Well,  dear,  if  you  set  about  that  good 
work  in  Christ's  name,  and  in  God's  own 
way, — it  may  prove  successful." 

At  the  same  time,  however,  she  could  not 
repress  a  sigh,  which,  betrayed  her  fear  that 
he  was  building  upon  a  false  foundation. 
Ferrand  himself,  as  we  have  seen,  had  begun 
to  doubt  very  strongly  that  he  could  do  much 
towards  reforming  the  wreckers,  and  he  eva- 
sively replied,  "  Mv  promise  only  binds  me 
17 


194  WKECKEK'S  GRAM>-»-I!II.I>. 

to  stay  Lere  for  one  year. — But,  wliat  will 
you  and  Bessie  do,  during  tliat  time  I  There 
is  no  suitable  home  for  you  in  this  wild 
place,  and  among  these  rough  people."' 

"  I  am  resolved  to  stay  here  as  long  as  you 
do,"  answered  Mrs.  Ferrand ;  "  and  it  was 
with  that  intention  that  I  came  to  Florida,  to 
seek  you." 

Finding  that  this  was  Blanche's  determi- 
nation, Lieutenant  Ferrand  immediately  set 
about  providing  her  with  a  more  pleasant, 
and  more  retired  dwelling-place  than  Giles's 
cottage. 

They  were  talking  over  the  subject  that 
afternoon,  when  Marianna  came  again,  with 
SL  large  bouquet  of  flowers  for  Mrs.  Ferrand, 
and  a  smaller  one  for  Bessie.  When  Blanche 
informed  her  of  what  she  and  the  Lieuten- 
ant had  been  talking,  Marianna  exclaimed, 
"  How  delightful  it  would  be,  if  you  would 


WRECKKK'S  (JKAXD-CHILD.  195 

come  and  live  in  our  house,  on  the  island." 
Mrs.  Ferrand  could  see  the  island  from  her 
room  windows,  and  she  thought  that  it  would 
indeed  be  a  charming  dwelling-place.  The 
Lieutenant  remarked  to  Marianna,  with  a 
smile,  "I  know  that  your  grandfather  could 
not  find  any  accommodations  in  his  house  for 
me ;  but  I  wish  that  you  could  take  Blanche 
and  Bessie  as  boarders." 

"  Ah,  yes !"  said  Marianna,  "  And  who 
knows  but  that  such  a  thing  may  be  2 — 
I  shall  try  what  can  be  done,  anyhow.  I 
am  going  to  persuade  grandfather  with  all 
my  might,  and  I  will  do  more  than  that ; — I 
will  pray  that  we,  who  suit  each  other  so 
well,  may  have  a  home  together." 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  smiled  at  this,  but 
Blanche,  with  a  look  of  earnest  approval, 
murmured,  "  Yes,  dear  Marianna." 

After    tea,    that   evening,    Marianna    sat 


down  beside  her  grandfather,  and  told  him 
all  about  the  rescue  of  Airs.  Ferrand  and  her 
<'hild  from  the  ocean,  on  the  preceding 
niirht.  The  old  man  said  nothing:,  hut  seemed 

o  ~ 

to  he  absorbed  in  smoking  his  large  pipe, 
with  its  porcelain  h<>\vl  and  ebony  stem; — 

yet  Murianna  knew  that  he  listened  to  her, 
for  anything  like  news  was  welcome  when  it 
came  to  one  who  led  such  a  tedious  life  as 
did  Von  Uldcn. 

"  The  little  girl"  continued  Marianna,  "  is 
nearly  the  age  that  I  was,  when  we  were 
shipwrecked  on  this  coast.  It  would  have 
put  you  in  mind  of  that  time  grandfather, 
if  you  had  seen  the  little  child  when  she 
was  brought  into  Giles's  cottage,  in  her  night 
dress,  all  drenched  with  salt  water." 

k>  I  c.m  remember  '  that  time,'  well 
enough,'1  drily,  yeiJiot harshly,  answered  the 
old  man. 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  197 

"And  Mrs.  Ferrand,"  said  Marianna, 
"  seems  to  me  to  be  very  much  like  what  I 
c.ni  remember  of  my  mother.  Didn't  mother 
have  soft  brown  hair,  a  pale  complexion,  and 
a  sweet  heavenly  look  f ' 

"  Yes."  answered  Yon  Ulden,  in  his  mild- 
est tone,  —  for  never  had  any  creature 
been  more  dear  to  him  than  his  amiable 
and  affectionate  daughter-in-law,  Hariannafo 
mother. 

After  a  short  pause,  Marianna  went  on  to 
say,  "  Grandfather,  since  I've  seen  Mrs.  Fer- 
rand, I've  been  thinking  how  nice  it  would 
be  if  I  could  have  her  company  every  day. 
You  know  I  have  never  had  any  companions, 
because  you  didn't  wish  me  to  associate  with 
the  girls  about  here, — but  she  is  so  different 
from  all  these  people.  And  the  little  child 
is  so  pretty,  and  cunning,  and  playful,  that  it 
is  a  perfect  treat  just  to  watch  her,  and  listen 
17* 


1'.'^  \VKECKEB 8  G  HAND-CHILD. 

to  her  !  X'jw,  grandfather,  tliere  is  no  suit- 
able place  about  here  for  Mrs.  Ferrand  and 
Be.-sie  to  live,  unless  they  come  to  board 
with  us,  and  Mrs.  Ferrand  says  that  she 
would  be  delighted  if  they  could  do  BO." 

Up  to  this  point,  Yon  Ulden  had  listened 
to  his  granddaughter  with  a  great  deal  of  pa- 
tience, but  now,  tahlng  the  pipe  out  of  his 
mouth,  and  staring  at  her  with  angry  aston- 
ishment, he  exclaimed,  "What, — have  the 
wife  and  child  of  that  jackanapes  Ferrand 
here,  so  that  he  may  be  coining,  every  day 
to  my  house,  and  putting  on  airs,  in  his  char- 
acter of  "  the  new  Commodore  ?" — If  I  do 
anything  of  the  kind,  I  wish  I — " 

"But  listen  to  me  one  moment,  please, 
grandfather,"'  said  Mariauna.  "  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  doesn't  feel  proud  at  all,  of  being 
called  "Commodore,"  by  the  wreckers,  and 
he  told  his  wife,  this  afternoon,  that  he  really 


WRECKER  S     GRAND-CHILD.  !!>') 

envied  you,  for  being  able  .to  live  here,  so 
quiet  and  independent." 

Yon  Ulden  was  somewhat  mollified  by 
this,  but  answered  in  a  dogged  tone,  "  I  don't 
care  what  he  says.  I  hate  the  fellow,  and  I 
don't  want  to  see  him,  It's  just  like  his  im- 
pudence, to  think  of  quartering  his  family  in 
my  house !" 

"  But  grandfather,"  pleaded  Marianna,  "  it 
is  for  my  sake  that  I  want  you  to  let  Mrs. 
Ferrand  come  here.  I  know  that  she  is  just 
what  you  wish  me  to  be,  when  I  grow  up, 
and,  if  she  was  here,  I  could  learn  from  her 
a  thousand  things  that  I  ought  to  know,  if  I 
am  to  be  a  lady,  as  she  is.  Mrs.  Ferrand 
would  be  like  a  mother,  or  rather,  like  an 
elder  sister,  to  me,  and  Bessie  would  be  such 
an  amusing  playmate." 

As  Marianna  finished  speaking,  she  twined 


200  WKKrKKU  s    GRAND-CHILD. 

her  anus  about  the  old  man's  neck,  and 
looked  up  entreatingly  into  his  face. 

Yon.  Ulden  was  perplexed,  for  he  could 
not  help  feeling  the  force  of  what  Marianna 
had  said,  in  regard  to  the  advantages  which 
she  would  derive  from  Mrs.  Ferrand's  so 
ciety. 

But  then  came  up  his  dislike  to  the  Lieu- 
tenant, and  the  author  of  evil  suggested  that 
he  would  be  acting  weakly  if  he  consented 
to  anything  which  would  please  "the  new 
Commodore."  So  liesaidto  his  granddaugh- 
ter, in  the  tone  of  one  who  wishes  to  cut 
short  a  puzzling  argument,  "I  know  what's 
best  for  you,  and  for  myself,  too.  Go  to 
bed,  now,  and  don't  plague  me  any  more 
about  these  Ferrands." 

Marianna  with  a  sigh,  bade  her  grand- 
father good-night  and  retired.  Shu  felt  ut- 
terly disappointed,  until  she  remembered 


WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD.  '201 

that  there  was  still  one  resource  left, — that 
of  praying  for  what  she  desired. 

Xext  morning,  Von  Uldeii  was  surprised 
to  receive  a  visit  from  old  Giles,  who  began 
a  conversation  by  complimenting  him  upon 
the  pleasant  appearance  of  his  dwelling,  lie 
then  introduced  the  subject  of  taking  Mrs. 
Ferrand  and  little  Bessie  to  board,  and  told 
Voii  Uldeii  that  if  he  would  consent  to  do 
this,  the  wreckers  would  compensate  him  by 
furnishing  enough  provisions,  of  lirst  class 
quality,  to  support  his  whole  family.  It  was 
true,  that  at  present  there  was  not  room 
enough  in  the  house  for  any  extra- occupants, 
but  Lieutenant  Ferrand  would  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  having  two  additional  rooms  put 
up. 

We  have  shown,  in  the  first  part  of  this 
history,  that  Yon  Ulden's  ruling  passion  was 
avarice, — or  the  greed  of  gain  ; — and  the 


"1(^1  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

meanness  of  this  vice  is  proved  by  the  fact 
that,  for  the  sake  of  having  all  the  provisions 
furnished  for  his  family  without  any  charge, 
Von  Ulden  consented  to  that  which  he  had 
denied  to  the  entreaties  of  his  granddaughter, 
the  only  living  being  for  whom  lie  had  any 
affection  !  Yet,  unexpected  as  was  this  turn 
of  affairs,  Marianna  did  not  fail  to  recognize, 
with  joy  and  gratitude,  the  ruling  hand  of 
that  Providence  which  causes  all  things  to 
u  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God." 

The  two  additional  rooms  were  quickly 
put  up,  and  this  improvement  to  his  house 
was  another  gain  on  the  side  of  Yon  Ulden. 
Xor  was  there  any  lack  of  furniture  for  the 
whole  house,  as  Yon  Ulden  had  stored  up  a 
quantity  of  articles  of  that  kind,  taken  from 
the  cabins  of  wrecked  vessels. 

In  a  few  davs,  Mrs.  Ferrand  and  her  little 


WRECKERS    GRAND-CHILD.  208 

girl  came  to  take  up  their  abode  on  the  is- 
land, and  their  presence  in  the  house  formed 
a  novel  and  most  pleasing  change  in  the  life 
of  Marianna. 


CHAPTER  X. 

HOW    MRS.    FERRAND,  BESSIE,    AND    MARIANNA, 

LIVED  TOGETHER  ON  THE  ISLAND. WHAT 

BLANCHE      AND    MARIANNA      TALKED 

OF. THERE  COMES  STILL  ANOTHER 

CHANGE. 

,  F  we  were  to  say  that  Mar i anna  ex- 
,\{\^& 
a)iift.  erted  herself  to  render  Mrs.  Ferrand 

and  her  child  comfortable  and  happy, 
we  should  not  be  speaking  correctly,  for  it 
was  no  exertion  to  Von  Ulden's  granddaugh- 
ter to  show  every  possible  kindness  and  at- 
tention to  those  whose  unexpected  presence 
in  her  house  she  regarded  as  such  a  blessing'. 
It  was  not  Mrs.  Ferrand's  disposition  to  give 
others  any  trouble,  if  she  could  possibly  help 
it,  and  she  sought  for  ways  of  making  wmic 
return  for  those  services  whic'h  she  was 

18  (205) 


200  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

obliged  to  receive.  In  former  days.  Von 
Udeii  liad,  at  different  times,  secured  from 
the  wrecks  of  vessels,  whole  bales  of  dry 
good-,  which  furnished  an  ample  wardrobe 
for  Marianna ;  and  there  were  still  stored 
away  in  a  trunk,  three  or  four  pieces  of  goods 
which  had  never  been  touched  by  scissors  or 
needle.  Marianna,  though  a  very  good 
seamstress  in  other  respects,  was  no  great 
adept  at  dress-making,  and  the  woman  who 
did  the  housework  rarely  had  time  to  assist 
her  in  such  matters.  But  Mr.-.  I'Vrrand  had 
plenty  of  leisure,  and  she-  commenced  mak- 
ing clothing  for  Marianna,  from  the  long  ne- 
glected ^oods,  with  a  taste  and  skill  which 
struck  the  island  girl  with  wonder  and  ad- 
miration. 

AVhenevcr  Von  Ulden  met  Mrs.  Ferrand, 
he  gave-  a  nod  of  his  head,  without  saying 
anything,  and  when  she  spoke  to  him,  he 


WRECKERS    GRAND-CHILD.  "20  i 

made  a.  l>rief  tliougR  civil  reply.  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand  had  given  Blanche  warning  that 
the  old  man  was  surly  and  eccentric,  but  she 
was  not  aware  that  Yon  Ulden  had  any  es- 
pecial ill-will  towards  her  husband. 

About  sunset,  every  day,  the  Lieutenant 
came  to  see  his  wife  and  child,  and,  at  that 
time,  Yon  Ulden  took  care  to  be  out  of  the 
way,  so  as  not  to  meet  with  the  object  of  his 
unreasonable  dislike.  If  they  met,  by  acci- 
dent, the  old  man  would  immediately  turn 
away,  without  taking  the  slightest  notice  of 
Ferrand,  who,  in  return,  pretended  to  be 
just  as  unconscious  of  his  presence, 

The  Lieutenant  had  told  the  wreckers  that 
Mrs.  Ferrand  was  very  delicate,  and  must  be 
kept  as  quiet  as  possible,  and,  accordingly, 
none  of  them  must  ever  come  to  the  island 
to  speak  with  him.  If  they  wished  to  see 


20fc  WRECKERS    GRAND-CHILD. 

him.  they  should  wait  until  he  returned  to 
the  main-land. 

Ferrand,  however,  had  more  than  one  ob- 
ject in  giving  this  order.  He  was  ashamed 
of  the  wreckers,  and  of  his  transactions  with 
them,  and  he  wished  therefore,  to  keep  them 
out  of  Blanche's  sight  and  hearing. 

Mrs.  Ferrand  and  Marianna  talked  a  great 
deal  together,  and  never  lost  their  interest 
and  pleasure  in  each  other's  company.  It 
would  he  hard  to  tell  upon  which  side  the 
most  wonder  and  admiration  were  felt,  for 
Mv>.  Ferrand  was  greatly  surprised  by  the 
language  and  sentiments  of  Marianna,  when 
she  considered  that  this  girl  had  been  brought 
up  in  solitude, — far  from  schools,  from  cities, 
and  from  all  refined  and  intelligent  society. 

]>ut  Marianna's  ignorance  was  not  so  great 
as  to  benumb  the  powers  of  a  mind  which 
uas  i-t  once  thoughtful  and  active.  In  the 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  209 

first  place,  aunt  Naomi  had  made  her  a  con- 
stant and  zealous  student  of  the  Bible.  She 
had  studied  out  the  beauties  of  its  inspired 
poetry  and  its  Divine  philosophy,  and  there 
was  not  a  scene  or  a  circumstance  of  her 
daily  life  for  which  she  could  not  find  some 
suitable  text,  expressive  of  a  great  and  en- 
nobling truth. 

The  only  work  in  verse  which  Marianna 
possessed,  was  aunt  Naomi's  hymn-book,  and 
she  had  learned  by  heart  every  stanza  which 
struck  her  as  being  either  beautiful  in  lan- 
guage or  devotional  in  spirit.  Those  songs  of 
Zion  which  she  warbled  so  untiringly,  seemed 
like  companions  to  her  as  she  went  about  her 
household  tasks,  or  mused  in  the  orange-tree 
bower,  or  took  her  lonely  walks  along  the 
shore.  AVe  have  spoken  of  those  works 
of  modern  history  which  Marianna  found 
and  read  so  eagerly. 


"21  n  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Again  and  again  she  wept  over  the  fate  of 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  admired  the  lofty 
Christian  firmness  of  Lady  Russell.  She 
read  of  those  Scottish  martyrs,  "of  whom 
the  world  was  not  worthy,"  and  who,  for  the 
Truth's  sake,"  wandered  in  deserts,  and  in 
mountains,  and  in  dens  and  caves  of  the 
earth.  Opening  the  history  of  her  own 
country,  she  missed  not  a  word  which  told 
her  how  the  Huguenot  exiles  of  France,  and 
the  Puritan  pilgrims  of  England,  crossed  the 
ocean  to  seek  upon  the  shores  of  America 
"  Freedom  to  worship  God."  Then,  Marian- 
na  made  the  acquaintance  of  all  the  nohle 
men  and  women  of  our  Revolutionary  days, 
and  thought  over  their  words  of  eloquencfe 
and  patriotism,  and  their  heroic  and  self- 
i  :•<•!•! -icing  acts,  until  she  was  so  rapt  into  the 
spirit  of  them  that  it  seemed  as  though  she 
herself,  had  striven,  endured,  and  conquered, 


WRECKER'S  GKAND-CHILD.  211 

willi  them.  Marianna  had  found,  in  an  old 
desk  of  lier  grandfather's,  a  blank  book,  in 
which  she  frequently  wrote  down  remarks 
upon  what  she  had  read,  or  some  of  her  re- 
flections upon  religious  subjects,  which  had 
proved  so  pleasant  and  cheering  to  her  mind 
that  she  did  not  wish  to  forget  them  again. 
Her  writing  in  this  book  had  given  Marian- 
na the  power  of  putting  her  thoughts  into 
words  more  easily  than  she  could  otherwise 
have  done,  and  words  cannot  express  what  a 
great  satisfaction  it  was  to  her  to  have  some 
one  to  whom  she  could  talk  freely  and  confi- 
dentially, as  she  could  to  Mrs.  Ferrand. 

Every  day,  Blanche  was  enabled  to  gratify 
Marianna' s  thirst  for  knowledge  by  describ- 
ing to  her  something  of  which  she  had 
hitherto  been  ignorant.  Xothing  interested 
the  young  listener  more  than  did  Mrs.  Fcr- 
rand's  account  of  the  public  worship  to  which 


i?12  WRKCKKR'S  o  RAND-CHILD. 

she  liad  been  accustomed. — for  Marianna  had 

never,  within  her  recollection,  been  in  a 
church,  nor  had  she  ever  seen  one. 

On  a  certain  afternoon,  Blanche  had  l;ecn 
telling  her  young  friend  about  the  different 
kinds  of  schools  which  are  provided  for 
children  and  youth,  and  which  none  of  us 
would  need  to  have  described  for  our  infor- 
mation. When  Mrs.  Ferrand  paused,  Ma- 
rianna asked,  "  Are  there  no  other  kinds  of 
schools  T 

•'I  cannot  think  of  any  others,  just  now." 
\vas  the  reply ,"  except  the  Sunday  Schools." 

••  What  are  the  children  taught  there  !"  in- 
quired Marianna. 

"The  object."  replied  Mrs.  Ferrand,  "  is 
to  teach  them  to  be  Christians.  Those  who 
are  too  young  to  understand  sermons  may 
there  learn  to  know  their  Saviour,  and  give 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  218 

tlicir   hearts  to  Him  who  gave  his  life  for 
them." 

"  What  books  do  they  use?"  was  the  next 
question. 

"  They  study  the  Bible,  and,  if  any  other 
books  are  used,  they  are  intended  only  to 
make  the  children  understand  that  more 
clearly."  * 

"  And  are  the  naughty  children  punished 
there  as  in  other  schools  that  you  have  been 
telling  me  of?" 

"  Oh,  no  ! — There  are  no  punishments 
there.  Love,  and  love  only,  is  the  ruling 
power  of  such  a  school.  The  teachers  get 
no  pay,  except  the  satisfaction  that  loving 
hearts  feel  in  making  those  around  them 
happier  and  better ; — and  the  scholars,  even 
before  they  learn  to  love  their  Saviour,  are 
led  to  come  by  a  love  for  their  teachers,  or 
their  school.  Think,  Mariaiina,  of  hundreds 


214 

of  children  meeting  together  t<>  learn  about 
heavenly  things,  and  all  joining  their  voices 
in  the  sweet  Sabbath  School  hymns,  making 
music  that  the  angels  in  Heaven  might  pause 
in  their  songs  to  listen  to !" 

Marianna's  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  inex- 
pressible delight,  as  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh, 
how  happy  those  children  must  be ! — How 
glad  they  must  fed  when  Sunday  comes  ! — I 
wonder  if  they  know  that  the  children  here 
have  no  Sabbath  School  ?  I  do  wish  that 
the  time  might  come  when  I  could  be  a  Sun- 
day School  teacher,  among  these  poor  child- 
ren !  Yes,  I  wish  that  we  could  try  it  now ; 
but  I  know  that  neither  grandfather  nor  the 
wreckers  would  listen  to  such  a  thing." 

Here,  the  arrival  of  Lieutenant  Ferrand 
put  a  stop,  for  the  present,  to  this  conversa- 
tion, but  the  subject  of  it  was  to  dwell  in 


WUKOKEKS  GRAND-CHILD.  ^15 

Marianna's  mind  throughout  the  whole    of 
her  succeeding  life. 

A  few  Aveeks  after  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Fer- 
rjind  111  Florida,  little  Bessie's  birth-day  oc- 
curred, and  it  was  celebrated  by  a  small  se- 
lect party,  consisting  of  Marianna,  Bessie's 
mother  and  father,  and  the  little  girl  herself. 
They  sat  down  beneath  the  shade  of  orange 
trees,  and  amidst  blooming  magnolias,  to  a 
really  delicious  supper  of  fruit  of  various 
kinds,  home-made  cake,  honey  in  the  comb, 
and  rich  pure  milk.  Marianna  crowned 
Bessie  with  a  wreath  of  white  roses,  but 
could  not  help  laughing  with  Lieutenant  and 
Mi's.  Ferrand,  to  see  the  change  which  took 
place  in  the  little  creature's  air  and  demean- 
or, under  the  consciousness  of  "looking pret- 
ty." Bessie,  however,  though  the  laugh  was 
rgainst  herself,  joined  in  it  with  the  most 
over-flowing  good  humor,  and  by  hugging 


21ti  WRECKERS  GKAM>-<  IIII.D. 

and  kissing  each  of  the  other  persons  pre- 
sent, proved  that  she  was  neither  hurt  nor 
offended. 

Already,  Bessie  could  talk  very  distinctly, 
and  every  new  phrase  which  she  picked  up 
was  hailed,  both  by  Marianna  and  Mrs.  Ter- 
mini, with  as  much  delight  as  though  the 
little  one  had  never  said  anything  u  cunning" 
before.  But  we  have  not  the  time  to  linger 
long  upon  these  pleasant  subjects,  and,  in 
giving  a  true  description  of  human  life,  we 
c:i:i  never  proceed  far  without  being  obliged 
to  relate  something  that  has  upon  it  the  shade 
of  sadness. 

7'lrs.  Ferrand  was  naturally  of  a  delicate 
constitution,  and  for  the  last  two  years,  she- 
had  gradually  been  growing  more  and  more 
fragile.  Lieutenant  Ferrand  expected  that, 
after  recovering  from  that  shock  which  she 
had  endured  on  the  night  of  the  wreck. 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  21 7 

Blanche  would  conic  back  to  the  same  degree 
of  strength  and  activity  which  she  had, 
when  he  last  left  her,  to  go  upon  his  "West 
Indian  voyage.  But,  on  the  contrary,  she 
continually  grew  weaker  and  thinner,  though 
she  never  uttered  any  complaint,  and  always 
returned  soothing  answers  to  his  anxious 
questionings  as  to  how  she  felt. 

For  some  time,  Ferrand  clung  to  the  hope 
that  the  mild  and  agreeable  climate  in  which 
she  now  was  living  would  produce  an  im- 
provement in  Blanche's  health,  but,  gradually 
the  cold  chill  of  disappointment  settled  over 
this  expectation  too.  He  told  his  wife  that 
he  would  go  to  the  nearest  city,  and  get  some 
reliable  doctor  to  come  and  give  an  opinion 
as  to  her  case ; — and  Blanche  calmly  replied, 
that  if  it  was  his  wish  to  do  so,  she  gave  her 
full  consent. 

Ferrand  took  the  proposed  journey,  and 
19 


218  WRF.C KKK'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

brought  back  \vitli  him  the  best  physician 
whose  services  he  could  procure.  After  the 
doctor  had  held  a  short  conversation  with 
Mrs.  Ferrand,  the  Lieutenant  walked  with 
him  down  to  the  island  shore,  and  they 
talked  together  for  some  time.  At  length, 
Ferrand  returned  to  the  apartment  where 
Blanche  was  sitting  alone,  while  Marianna 
and  Bessie  were  chasing  each  other  about  the 
garden.  His  face  was  pale  as  marble,  and 
the  pupils  of^liis  eyes  were  dilated  like  those 
of  one  who  suffers  intense  pain,  yet  a  cheer- 
ful smile  was  upon  his  lips,  and,  in  a  steady 
yet  gentle  tone,  he  remarked,  "  The  Doctor 
says  you  must  be  very  careful  of  yourself, 
Blanche." 

AVhat  a  sweetness  of  expression,  what  ten- 
derness and  sympathy,  were  in  Blanche's 
looks ! 

"  Come   and  sit   here,  Frank,'1  said   she. 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  219 

Ferrand  took  the  chair  to  which  she  pointed. 
"  Now,  dear,"  she  continued,  "  why  should 
you  put  such  a  constraint  upon  yourself,  and 
force  that  smile,  when  the  heart  is  so  full  ? 
I  cannot  but  expect  that  you  should  be  sorry 
to  part  with  me,  after  we  have  been  so  happy 
together !" 

At  these  words,  Ferrand's  false  strength 
suddenly  gave  way.  His  head  dropped  for- 
ward, his  hands  were  pressed  over  his  face, 
and  he  wept  as  he  had  never  done  since, 
when  a  boy,  he  stood  beside  his  mother's  cof- 
fin. Those  convulsive  sobs,  which  shook  his 
whole  frame,  seemed  like  the  throes  of  death, 
and  as  they  grew  fewer  and  fainter,  he  uttered 
words  which  touched  1  Blanche's  heart  more 
deeply  than  did  even  his  tears. 

"  I  could  have  borne  anything  else,"  he 
ejaculated.  "  I  have  borne  humiliations  and 
losses  that  would  have  crushed  other  men ; — 


JJiSU  WEECKKK  8    (rKAND-CHILJi. 

and  I  have  not  shed  a  tear,  nor  uttered  a 
complaint.  But  I  am  conquered*  now; — ! 
fa n not  endure  this  !" 

"Yes,  dear  Frank,  God  will  give  YOU 
strength  to  endure  it.  Oh,  it  is  amazing 
what  we  can  bear,  with  His  help!  I  have 
often  felt  afraid  that  I  could  not  be  resigned 
to  leaving  you  and  Bessie ;  but,  now  that  the 
trial  has  come,  I  seem  to  be  braced  up  by  a 
courage  that  is  not  my  own,  and  my  heart 
feels  wonderfully  calm  and  cheerful.  How 
true  are  those  two  precious  texts  of  Scripture, 
"My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,''  and  ••  As 
thy  day,  so  shall  thy  strength  be!" — Only 
trust  the  Lord,  dear,  and  you  will  find  t1::it 
He  can  support  you  in  any  trial." 

Ferrand  made  no  reply,  but  his  heart  was 
not  in  a  state  either  to  receive  comfort  or  t<> 
feel  resigned.  lie  saw,  however,  that  his 
grief  had  drawn  from  Blanche's  eyes  tears 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  221 

which  her  own  situation  could  not  cause  to 
flow,  and  he  resolved  that  she  should  not 
again  be  thus  troubled  upon  his  account. 
With  a  struggle,  he  mastered  all  outward 
signs  of  emotion;  and  no  mortal  eye  again 
beheld  him  weep, — no  mortal  ear  heard  his 
heart's  bitter  complainings. 

As  a  last  resource,  Ferrand  now  betook 
himself  to  prayer,  and,  for  months  after  this, 
he  prayed,  not  only  every  day,  but  every 
hour  of  his  waking  existence.  His  prayer 
was  always  the  same, — u  Lord,  spare  her  life ! 
Restore  her  to  health  again  !" 

lie  never  asked  for  submission  to  the  will 
of  God, — whatever  that  will  might  be ; — and 
he  did  not  ask  for  sustaining  grace  to  sup- 
port him,  in  case  of  Blanche's  death.  Though 
he  never  put  the  thought  into  words,  the 
spirit  of  his  prayer  was  this, — u  Give  me 
just  what  I  ask  for,  or  give  me  nothing!" 


222  WRECKER'S  <TRAXI>-<'IIII.I>. 

When  Blanche  informed  M  arianna  that  the 
doctor  had  pronounced  her  to  he  in  a  rapid 
consumption,  the  shock  to  Yon  Fldon's 
granddaughter  was  extremely  great.  At 
first,  in  her  despondency,  she  felt  tempted  to 
believe,  as  Lieutenant  Ferrand  did  himself. 
that  Providence  had  singled  her  out  to  he  the 
victim  of  special  misfortunes.  Tier  mother 
had  early  heen  taken  from  her, — then  her 
father, — then  aunt  Naomi, — and  now,  Mrs. 
Ferrand  was  going ;  and  her  grandfather  was 
so  aged  and  infirm  that  his  death  could  not, 
certainly,  be  far  distant.  But  unlike  the  Lieu- 
tenant, Marianna  steadily  resisted,  and  soon 
drove  from  her  the  thought  that  God's  pur- 
poses,— however  mysterious  they  might  now 
appear, — could  be  any  other  than  those  of 
love  and  mercy.  Yet  fain,  indeed,  would  ]\Ia- 
rianna  keep  with  her  that  dear  friend  over 
whom  she  had  so  lately  rejoiced  as  over  a  new 


WBECKER  8     GKAXD-CIITLD.  2'2» 

found  treasure,  and  wlio  was  tlio  only 
being  upon  earth  into  whose  sympathizing 
car  she  could  ever  pour  the  full  confidence 
of  her  heart.  She,  too,  betook  herself  to 
daily  and  hourly  prayer  for  Blanc-he's  re- 
covery ;  hut  her  petition  breathed  the  sub- 
missive spirit  of  the  Saviour  in  Gethsem- 
ane; — "  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this 
cup  pass  from  mo  ; — nevertheless,  not  as  I 
will,  but  as  thoti  wilt !" 

Tt  was  now  the  chief  study,  both  of  Ma- 
rianna  and  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  to  do  every- 
thing possible  to  render  Blanche's  life  cheer- 
ful and  pleasant,  while  she  yet  remained 
with  them,  and  these  loving  attentions  were 
well  appreciated  by  the  invalid.  As  she 
received  the  thousand  little  services  of  true 
affection,  a  smile  of  tenderness  and  pleasure 
would  beam  upon  her  faco,  and,  at  all  times 
her  niannor  displayed  a  serene  tranquility 


224  \VRKCXKlt" S    GKANTVCHTLD. 

which  bespoke  the  soul  cjuiet  that  reigned 
within.  Her  favorite  occupations  were 
reading  her  Bible,  doing  some  useful  piece 
«sf  -:-\ving,  or  listening  to  Marianna  singing 
hymn?.  This  last  was  a  source  of  great 
pleasure  to  Bessie  also,  and  tho  little  child 
would  often  herself  try  to  sing  some  of  those 
sweet  words  to  which  she  listened  so  atten- 
tively. 

Grieved  as  she  was  at  the  prospect  of  losing 
her  friend,  Marianna  could  sec  that  it  was 
not  Blanche,  but  her  husband,  who  was  a  fit 
object  for  pity,  and  she  hoped  at  first,  that 
Lieutenant  Fcrrancl  might  find  some  conso- 
lation in  watching  the  blooming  health,  and 
innocent  playfulness  of  his  little  daughter. 
But  in  this  sho  waj  disappointed,  for  Fer- 
rand  was  so  much  absorbed  in  anxiety  i'jr  his 
wifo  that  ho  now  scarcely  took  any  notice  of 
his  child.  Indeed,  it  was  painful  to  him  {:) 


'S  GRAND-CHILD.  225 

see  her  thoughtlessly  laughing  and  playing 
besi-le  her  sick  mother. 

A  -  Blanche's  strength  began  to  fail  rapidly, 
the  ido-i  struck  Marianna,  that  it  might  l>o 
well  to  endeavor  to  prepare  Bessie  some  what 
for  an  approaching  separation  from  that 
mother  to  whoso  constant  presence  she  had 
hitherto  been  accustomed.  One  day  she 
tried  to  introduce  the  subject  in  talking  to 
that  happy  and  unsuspecting  little  one,  but 
Mnri:-uma's  heart  failed  her,  and  she  burst 
into  tears.  At  this  moment,  Mrs.  Ferrand, 
assisted  by  her  husband,  came  and  took  her 
seat  beside  an  open  window  of  her  room, 
which  looked  into  the  garden,  where  the  two 
girls  then  were.  Bessie,  with  an  expression 
half  indignant  and  half  distressed,  pointed 
to  tlrj  weeping  Marianna,  and  exclaimed, 
"Look,  Mamma, — naughty  Minna  crying  for 
nothing!" 


226  WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD. 

Blanche,  though  now  unahl'j  to  loave  her 
room,  was  not  confined  to  her  bed,  but  spent 
most  of  the  day  in  a  large  cushioned  easy 
chair.  Three  months  had  now  elapsed  .since 
her  first  coming  to  Florida,  when,  one  morn- 
ing, Mrs.  Ferrand  found  herself  so  we:.k 
that,  after  taking  a  slight  breakfast,  she  was 
obliged  to  lie  down  again  upon  her  bed. 
Mr.-.  Giles  had,  of  late,  been  in  the  habit  of 
frequently  coming  over  to  the  island,  to  As- 
sist in  attending  upon  I.lanche,  and  on  this 
occasion  the  remained  with  her  all  day. 
Lieutenant  Ferrand,  also,  spent  the  entire 
day  upon  the  island,  and  passed  the  night  on 
a  lounge  in  Von.  Ulden's  sitting-room.  The 
next  morning,  as  her  husband  was  sitting  be- 
side her,  Blanche  drew  from  beneath  her 
pillow  a  pocket  ]>iblc,  bound  in  faded  red 
and  gold,  ;;nd  baid,  k'  Frank,  I  have  been 
wishing  to  give  yon  home  keepsake,  and  I 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  227 

hive  chosen  this,  because  it  is  the  most  pre- 
cious thing  that  I  possess.  I  know  that  you 
will  love  it  because  it  has  been  so  dear  to  me. 
When  you  Were  away  from  home,  and  all  our 
prospects  looked  dark  and  clouded,  this  was 
my  comforter ; — and,  on  that  night  of  the 
wreck,  when  I  was  swept  along  by  the  waves, 
with  Bessie  in  my  arms,  this  book  was  placed 
safely  next  to  my  heart/' 

"And,  while  I  live,  it  shall  be  kept  next 
to  mine,"  answered  Ferrand,  with  deep  emo- 
tion, as  he  received  the  book,  kissed  it,  and 
placed  it  in  his  bosom. 

"  I  believe  it,  dear  ;"  said  Blanche,  "  and  I 
hope  that  you  will  sometimes  read  those 
pages  that  I  have  read  so  often.  Oh,  Frank, 
if,  in  the  darkest  hour  of  your  life,  you  search 
that  book,  you  will  find  there  tho  light  that 
you  want !  If  you  -do  not  find  it  at  first, 
look  again,  and  again,  for  "  there  is  balm  in. 


2'2S  WRECKERS  GKAXD-CIIILD. 

(,-iilead,  and  tlicrc  id  a  Physician  there."  I 
know  that  you  will  yet  come  to  love  the 
Bible  and  the  Saviour  ; — I  have  prayed  for 
it  so  often  !" 

u  You  have  been  my  guardian  angel,  e\vr 
since  we  first  met,"  replied  her  husband,  fer- 
vently. "  But  don't  try  to  talk  any  more 
just  now,  dear  Blanche.  You  are  weak,  and 
so  much  speaking  exhausts  yon." 

"  Yes,  I  do  feel  tired,"  answered  Blanche. 
"  I  will  sleep  a  little  now,  and,  while  I  iiin 
sleeping,  I  would  like  you,  Frank,  to  take  a 
short  walk.  You  did  not  stir  out  of  the 
house  all  day  yesterday,  and  you  are  not 
to  such  close  confinement.  Marianna 
will  sit  by  me,"  she  added,  as  Yon  Ulden's 
granddaughter  entered  the  room,  with 
Bessie. 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  accordingly,  bale  his 
wife  an  affectionate  good-bye,  took  his  hat, 


WRECKER'S  o HAND-CHILD.  229 

and  went  out  for  a  little  Avalk,  about  the 
island.  Bessie  now  demanded  to  get  up  on 
her  mamma's  bed,  and  at  Mrs.  Ferrand's  re- 
quest, Marianna  placed  the  child  beside  her 
mother.  Mrs.  Ferrand  put  her  arms  around 
her  little  girl,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  the  rosy 
dimpled  child,  and  the  pale,  fragile  mother, 
lay  sleeping  with  equal  tranquillity.  Marian- 
na sat  by  the  bed-side,  engaged  with  some 
needlework,  frequently  glancing  at  the  slum- 
bering invalid.  Presently  Mrs.  Ferrand 
opened  her  eyes,  and  fixing  them  earnestly 
upon  Marianna,  said,  "  That  was  not  a 
dream  !" 

"What  was  it  like?"  asked  Marianna, 
rising  and  leaning  over  the  bed. 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  describe  it ;  such  a  beauti- 
ful scene,  and  such  brightness  !  I  know  that 
it  was  real,  for  Jesus  has  said,  "  I  go  to  pre- 


230  CHECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

pare  a  place  for  you ;" — uud  now  I  have  seen 
that  place  !M 

Her  voice  sank  into  a  whisper,  and  she 
closed  her  eyes  again.  Mariaima  bent  over 
her  more  closely,  gazed  at  her  intently,  and 
then  called,  "  Mrs.  Ferrand  I" — at  first  quite 
softly,  and  then  in  a  louder,  yet  more  tremu- 
lous tone.  Finding  that  she  could  get  no 
response,  Marianna  ran  to  where  Mrs.  Giles 
was  sitting,  in  conversation  with  the  hired 
woman,  and  begged  her  to  come  to  Mrs. 
Ferrand's  room.  Both  of  the  women  came 
immediately,  and  after  looking  closely  at 
Blanche,  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  it  is  all  over ! 
She  is  gone  !"  « 

Mrs.  Giles  gently  lifted  the  sleeping  child 
iVum  the  arms  of  its  lifeless  mother,  and  laid 
it  upon  a  bed  in  the  other  room. 

Mariaima  went  into  the  sitting  room,  and, 
throwing  herself  into  a  chair,  wept  like  a  lit- 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  231 

tie  cliild.  Mrs.  Giles  followed  her,  and  with 
well  meaning,  yet  mistaken  solicitude,  repre- 
sented to  her  that  "  fretting  could  not  do  any 
good,"  and  that  she  would  only  make  herself 
sick. 

In  a  few  minutes,  Lieutenant  Ferrand's 
step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and  Mrs.  GiK-s 
went  to  meet  him,  with  a  look  full  of  sad 
significance. 

"  DoiTt  go  up  stairs,  Lieutenant,''  said  she 
in  a  subdued  voice,  "  come  in  here." 

Ferrand  followed  her  into  the  sitting-room, 
looked  at  the  weeping  Marianna,  and  sat 
down  in  silence. 

"I  have  been  telling  Miss  Marianna,"  ob- 
served Mrs.  Giles,  "  that  grieving  is  all  of  no 
use  ; — and  we  all  have  got  to  go,  sooner  or 
later.  I'm  sure,  them  that  are  gone  are  bet- 
ter off,  for  there's  nothing  but  trouble  in  this 
world." 


232  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

After  uttering  a  few  more  eentences  oi 
common  place  consolation,  Mrs.  Giles  grew 
silent,  for  she  was  getting  uneasy  and  discon- 
certed under  the  strangely  steady  gaze 
which,  all  the  while,  Ferrand  kept  tixed  up- 
on her.  It  did  not  seem  that  he  moved  an 
eye-lash,  and  he  appeared  to  listen  to  Mrs. 
Gih.-.s  as  though  upon  every  word  she  uttered 
hung  an  issue  more  tremendous  than  that  of 
life  or  death, — yet,  in  fict,  ho  did  not  know 
what  she  was  saying.  Mrs.  Giles  herself  he- 
gan  to  suspect  this,  and  after  a  pause,  she 
asked,  "  Lieutenant,  wouldn't  you  like  to 
see  little  Bessie  ?" 

There  was  no  answer,  and  no  change  of  ex- 
presMon  in  his  countenance.  Mrs.  Giles 
came  nearer  to  him  and  repeated  her  ques- 
tion. Without  a  word,  Ferrand  arose, 
walked  out  of  the  room  and  immediately 
left  the  house. 


WBECKEB'S  GRAND-CHILD.  233 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Giles,  "  how  strange 
that  man  acts !" 

She  went  to  the  house  door,  and  looked 
after  the  Lieutenant  until  she  had  seen  him. 
go  down  to  the  shore,  get  into  a  little  boat, 
and  row  himself  across  to  the  mainland. 
When  she  returned  home,  that  evening,  she 
was  told  1)  v  her  husband  that  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand  had  remained  locked  up  in  his  own  room, 
in  their  cottage,  ever  since  .he  returned  from 
the  island. 

Yon  Ulden's  behaviour,  upon  the  occasion 
of  Mrs.  Ferrand's  death,  was  not  exactly 
that  which  his  granddaughter  had  prepared 
herself  to  expect.  Though  very  few  words 
had  ever  been  exchanged  between  them, 
the  old  man  had  regarded  Blanche's  pres- 
ence on  the  island  as  a  pleasant  circumstance  ; 
and,  on  account  of  her  resemblance  to  l[a- 
riarma's  mother,  he  would  often  gaze  at  her 
20* 


lj;i4  WRECKER  S    GRAND-CHILD. 

for  a  long  time,  with  interest,  if  lie  could  do 
so  unobserved.  In  his  mildest  tone,  he  now 
remarked  to  Marianna, — "  Well,  I  am  sorry 
for  this.  I  was  in  hopes  that  Mrs.  Ferrand 
would  be  like  a  mother,  and  a  sister,  too,  to 
you,  Marianna, — but  I  see  that  you're  fated 
not  to  have  any  suitable  friend  or  compan- 
ion. You  come  of  an  unlucky  stock ; — 
that's  certain.  She  was  too  good  to  be  the 
wife  of  such  a  puppy  as  Ferrand,  and  if  it 
had  only  been  him  that  died,  instead  of  her, 
it  would  have  been  a  great  deal  more  satis- 
factory." 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  Marianna  an- 
swered, "Oh  no,  grandfather, — for  we  are 
sure  that  she  has  gone  to  Heaven." 

"  And  Ferrand  himself,"  said  Yon  Ulden, 
"  is  bound  to  go."  AYith  one  gesture  of  dis- 
tressed entreaty  Marianna  sprang  up  and 
left  the  room.  It  wa&  too  shocking  and  pain- 


WRECKERS    GRAND-CHILD.  2<5i> 

ful  to  hear  such  a  judgment  pronounced  up- 
on another  by  that  hardened  and  godless 
old  man,  who  was  himself,  every  hour,  tremb- 
ling upon  the  brink  of  everlasting  misery  1 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    EFFECTS    OF    HIS    LOSS    UPOX    LIEUTENANT 

FERRAXD.  -  MARTAXXA      AXD     BESSIE     AS 

COMP.YN70XS.  -  BESSIE  IS  DEPRIVED  OF 

HER  OT1IKR    PARENT. 


^ie  mornmg  °f  the  next  day  after 
Blanche's  departure,  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand  requested  Giles  to  proceed  to 
the  nearest  town,  and  send  a  telegraphic  des- 
patch to  Mrs.  Ferrand's  relatives,  so  that  an  y 
of  them  who  desired  to  do  so  might  he  pres- 
ent at  her  funeral.  At  the  same  time,  (ii!rs 
was  directed  to  make  arrangements  for  the 
burial,  which  was  to  take  place  at  a  cemetery 
near  the  town  just  mentioned.  In  order  to 
meet  expenses,  Lieutenaiit  Ferrand  placed 
in  Giles's  hands  all  the  money  which  he 
then  had,  and  which  consisted  of  his  share 

(23T) 


2'">S  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

of  tlie  profits  from  two  or  three  wrecks  that 
had  recently  taken  place. 

The  next  day  Ferrand  walked  out,  and  di- 
rected his  steps  to  the  most  lonely  and  se- 
cluded spot  that  he  could  find.  It  was  about 
a  mile  from  the  wreckers'  settlement,  and 
was  frequented  just  enough  to  keep  a  narrow 
path  worn  through  the  tall  thick  grass,  and 
amidst  trees  and  bushes  growing  in  wild 
luxuriance.  Xo  sound  was  now  heard  there 
but  the  chirping  of  insects,  and  the  occaM«»n- 
al  twitter  of  a  bird,  as  it  flew  to  or  from  its 
nest. 

"  Only  a  few  months  ago,"  thought  Fer- 
rand, "how  I  could  have  enjoyed  such  a 
walk  as  this  !  It  never  required  a  great  deal 
to  make  me  happy;  and,  if  Fate  had  only 
Fpared  her," — he  struck  his  hand  against  his 
breast,  and,  in  doing  so,  felt  the  little  Bible 
that  Blanche  had  given  him. 


WBECKEB'S  (rUA\i)-<  HILD.  239 

"  Ah, — she  said,  tliat  in  that  book  there 
was  comfort  for  the  darkest  hour,"  murmured 
lie.  "  Surely,  my  life  cannot  have  a  darker 
hour  than  this !" 

He  sat  down  upon  a  fallen  tree,  drew  forth 
the  Bible,  and  opened  it,  but  without  any 
definite  object  except  that  of  honoring 
Blanche's  last  advice.  Even  from  this  object 
his  attention  was  immediately  drawn  off,  by 
seeing  a  folded  letter  placed  between  the 
back  and  blank  leaves  of  the  book.  It  had 
been  written  by  Blanche  in  her  last  illness, 
and  was  addressed  to  himself.  She  alluded 
to  her  approaching  departure  with  tranquil- 
lity, and  even  with  cheerfulness,  and  said 
everything  that  piety  and  love  could  suggest 
to  render  the  parting  less  painful  to  her  hus- 
band. She  conjured  him  not  to  remain 
among  the  wreckers  longer  than  the  one 
year  for  which  he  was  bound  by  his  promise, 


240  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

and  begged  that,  while  he  was  among  them, 
lie  would  exert  all  the  strength  of  his  soul  to 
resist  the  temptations  of  such  a  trying  and 
dangerous  position.  Indeed,  she  expressed 
her  opinion,  if  he  found  that  his  present 
position  obliged  him  to  join  in,  or  connive  at, 
what  was  wrong,  he  ought  to  leave  the  wreck- 
ers at  once, — since  to  keep  his  promise  would 
dishonor  him  in  the  sight  of  God,  while  to 
break  it,  would  dishonor  him  only  in  the 
eyes  of  wicked  and  lawless  men.  Finally, 
Blanche  desired  that  Bessie  should  remain 
in  Florida  as  long  as  hor  father  did,  and  that, 
during  that  time,  she  should  share  the  home, 
and  be  under  the  care  of  that  dear  Christian 
girl,  Mariaima  Yon  Ulden. 

Ferrand  read  this  letter  with  all  the  awe 
and  reverence,  the  tenderness  and  emotion, 
of  a  person  listening  to  a  voice  from  the  be- 
loved dead, — a  message  from  one  of  thegiori- 


WRECKERS  GKAND-CHILD.  "241 

fied  inhabitants  of  Heaven.  About  an  hour 
afterwards,  he  went  to  the  island,  and  com- 
municated to  Marianna  Mrs.  Ferrand's  wish 
concerning  Bessie.  Marianna  had  feared 
that  Bessie  would  speedily  be  removed  from 
Florida,  and  sent  to  live  with  some  relative 
in  a  distant  state,  but  now,  clasping  the  little- 
treasure  in  her  arms,  she  fervently  vowed 
that,  while  they  remained  together,  this 
child  should  be  the  object  of  her  dearest  care. 
When  Mrs.  Ferrand's  two  elder  sisters, 
with  their  husbands,  came  to  attend  her  fun- 
eral, they  seemed  disposed,  at  first,  to  insist 
upon  taking  Bessie  away,  to  live  with  one  of 
them  ;  but  the  Lieutenant's  dejection  gave 
place,  for  a  few  moments,  to  indignation,  as 
he  sternly  assured  them  that  no  one  should 
remove  the  child  from  the  care  of  that  per- 
son to  whom  she  had  been  consigned  by  a 


"•21*2  WRECKER'S  <;KAXT>-CIIILI>. 

dvinir    mother's    wish,  and   ;i  living  father's 
authority. 

And  now  Blanche  Ferrand  is  removed 
from  liuinan  sight,  never  more  to  he  seen  as 
a  weak,  suffering,  mortal  being.  Those  of 
her  earthly  friends  who  are  privileged  to  see' 
her  again  will  see  her  in  the  resurrection  body, 
blooming  and  radiant  with  immortality. 

Xone  of  the  wreckers  perceived  anything 
extraordinary  in  the  demeanor  of  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  after  his  wife's  death.  lie  was  se- 
rious, thoughtful,  and  silent. — hut  this  much 
they  had  expected.  Among  all  who  sur- 
rounded him,  only  the  intelligent  and  sympa- 
thizing eye  of  Marianna  co'.ild  road  anything 
of  what  was  passing  in  hisheart.  His  calm- 
ness was  that  of  a  man  who  has  L>st  every- 
thing, and  endured  the  last  and  worst  stroke 
of  misfortune,  and  who,  therefore,  has  noth- 
ing more  either  to  hope  or  to  fear.  As  for 


WRKCKEB'8    GRAND-CHILD.  U-io 

the  kindness  of  God's  purposes,  he  could  no 
more  realize  it,  than  a  Protestant  martyr  up- 
on the  rack  could  realize  the  goodness  of 
the  Popish  Inquisition.  iSro ; — he  had  merely 
set  himself  down  to  bear  with  patience  and 
dignity  the  injuries,  (for,  strangely  as  it 
sounds,  this  is  the  feeling  of  many  people  in 
similar  circumstanced,)  the  injuries  which 
Providence  chose  to  inflict  upon  him. 

Marianna,  trusting  in  God,  did  not  find 
herself  left  to  loneliness  and  sorrow,  for  the 
care  of  Bessie  occupied  her  mind,  while  the 
child's  company  cheered  her  spirits.  She 
provided  Bessie  with  the  same  kind  of  tovs 
which  had  amused  her  own  early  childhood, 
— shells  from  the  sea-beach  and  acorns  from 
the  grove.  Among  the  wrecks  upon  that 
coast  was  a  little  trading  vessel  called  u  The 
Cherub,"  which  had  for  its  figure-head  a 
carved  wooden  representation  of  the  head  of 


244  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

a  child,  about  the  size  of  that  of  an  infant  a 
year  old; — and  this  head  Lieutenant  Ferrand 
brought  with  him  one  day,  when  he  came  to 
the  island  to  visit  his  little  girl.  The  wooden 
elngy  had  very  blue  eyes,  very  red  cheeks, 
and  a  carved  imitation  of  bright  yellow  hair, 
arranged  in  curls ; — and  Bessie's  fancy  was 
taken  with  it  immediately.  Marianna  1'xed 
to  it  a  small  body,  made  of  muslin  stuffed 
with  dried  grass,  and  then  dressed  it  up  in 
the  oldest  of  Bessie's  clothes,  when  the  little 
girl  joyfully  received  it  in  her  arms,  and 
owned  it  as  "  her  baby." 

P>e»ie,  likewise,  enjoyed  with  Marianna 
the  pleasant  company  of  pretty,  harmless, 
living  things,  that  willingly  bestowed  their 
society  upon  those  sweet  children,  whom 
they  found  to  be  as  harmless  as  themselves. 
.Jirds  of  song  would  perch  upon  the  sills  of 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  245 

the  open  windows  near  which  they  sat,  and 
there  warble  as  freely  as  in  the  grove. 

There  was  a  family  of  beautiful  doves, — 
of  a  species  peculiar  to  Florida, — which  were 
so  tame  that  they  not  only  flew  around  the 
two  girls,  when  they  walked  out, — but  often, 
at  meal  times,  came  in  and  alighted  upon  the 
edge  of  the  table,  to  pick  up  crumbs,  and  re- 
ceive other  food  from  the  hands  of  Marian- 
na  and  Bessie.  There  were  a  couple  of 
squirrels,  too,  that  frequently  came  in  at  the 
windows,  played  around  the  sitting-room,  al- 
lowed themselves  to  be  fed  by  the  two  girls, 
and  then  bounded  off  to  their  wild  homes 
again,  soon  to  return  for  another  visit. 

But  the  most  interesting  hours  of  Marian- 
na  and  Bessie  were  when,  early  in  the  morn- 
ing or  late  in  the  afternoon,  they  walked  out 
together,  hand  in  hand, — generally  directing 
21* 


-24t)  WRECKERS  GRAND-CHILD. 

their  steps  towards  the  island  shore.  Then, 
while  every  object  around, — from  the  majes- 
tic ocean  to  the  smallest  flower-bud, — fur- 
nishul  her  with  an  illustration,  Marianna 
would  talk  to  her  little  charge  of  the  power 
and  goodness  of  the  great  Creator,  until  by 
the  simple  faith  of  the  astonished  and  admir- 
ing child,  God's  presence  was  felt  pervading 
every  spot  of  the  surrounding  sea,  earth,  and 
skv.  Bessie  loved  much  to  hear  Marianna 
tell  about  the  beautiful  home  to  which  her 
mother  had  gone,  and  where,  some  day,  they 
weiv  going,  too.  In  that  home,  Marianna 
pictured  everything  that  is  most-  delightful 
and  attractive, — perpetual  sunshine, — never 
fading  flowers  of  magnificent  beauty, — glori- 
ous mansions, — hosts  of  happy  souls  in  robes 
of  glittering  white, — countless  throngs  of 
little  children,  sporting  in  continued  joy, — 
the  melody  of  sweet  angelic  voices,  singing 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  247 

their  wondrous  hymns, — and  to  complete  the 
whole, — the  presence  of  Jesus  smiling  ten- 
•derly  on  those  He  loves  so  well. 

Sometimes  Lieutenant  Ferrand  would  ac- 
company Marianna  and  Bessie  in  their 
walks,  for  theirs  was  now  the  only  society, 
within  his  reach,  that  he  could  well  endure. 
Unlike  Yon  Ulden,  he  had  not  become  so 
harsh  and  peevish  by  his  misfortunes  as  to 
make  all  around  him  unhappy,  and  the  in- 
nocent cheerfulness  of  Marianna  and  Bessie 
did  not  grate  upon  his  feelings  as  did  the  rude 
and  depraved  mirth  of  the  wreckers. 

He  assisted  his  little  girl  ingathering  shells 
and  flowers,  and  the  amiable  simplicity  of 
his  character  increased  Marianna's  pity  for 
that  silent  heart-ache  which  she  knew  that 
he  endured.  lie  soon  began  to  seek  relief 
from  the  burden  of  melancholy  thoughts  in 
talking  to  Mariaima  of  his  departed  wilt*, — 


*>48  WBECKEB'S  GRAND-CHILI*. 

in  telling how.  as  a  id:1!.  >hehad  walked,  with 
the  serene  and  lofty  indifference  of  a  great 
soul,  through  the  "  Vanity  Fair"  of  fashion- 
able society, — and  how,  as  a  wife,  her  un- 
selfish devotion  had  been  as  a  star  that  shone 
forth  the  more  brightly  when  the  clouds  of 
adversity  gathered  around  her  husband  and 
her  home. 

Marianna,  as  she  listened,  shed  tears  of 
admiring  sympathy,  and  often  expressed  the 
hope  that,  in  all  respects,  Bessie  might  prove 
just  such  a  woman  as  her  mother. 

One  day,  as  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  ^Uari.ni- 
na,  and  Bessie,  sat  by  the  sea-shore,  jind 
watched  the  waves  rolling  up  on  the  sand,  and 
then  receding,  Ferrand  remarked  thought- 
fully, "This  scene,  and  my  own  lonely  situa- 
tion, remind  me  of  some  lines  that  were 
written  by  a  man  who  lived  somewhere  in 
Florida ; 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  249 

"  My  life  is  like  the  print  of  feet 
Left  upon  Tampa's  desert  sand  ; 
Soon  as  the  rising  tide  shall  beat, 
Those  tracks  shall  vanish  from  the  land. 
Yet,  as  if  grieving  to  efi'ace 
All  vestige  of  the  human  race, 
On  that  lone  shore  loud  moans  the  sea, 
But  none  shall  e'er  lament  for  me  ! 

My  life  is  like  the  Autumn  leaf 
That  flutters  in  the  moon's  pale  ray  ; 
Its  hold  is  frail,  its  state  is  brief, 
Eestless,  and  soon  to  pass  away. 
Yefc,  ere  that  leaf  shall  fall  and  fads, 
Tho  parent  tree  shall  mourn  its  shade ; — 
The  winds  bowail  the  leafless  tree, — 
But  none  shall  breathe  a  sigh  for  mo  I" 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  Bessie  spoke  up,  "Papa,  that's  pretty 
talk  ;  but  don't  say  it  any  more.  It  makes 
Minna's  eyes  so  weak !" 

Marianna  now  began  to  speak  of  her  own 
peculiar  heart-trials,  beginning  with  the  curly 


*2."i'i  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

loss  of  her  mother,  of  whom  her  faint,  yet 
almost  adoring  remembrance,  was,  as  she 
herself  said,  "  Like  a  dream  of  an  angel !" 

Tli is  led  Lieutenant  Ferrand  to  talking  of 
his  mother,  who,  like  Marianna's  and  Bessie's, 
had  died  a  holy  and  a  happy  death, — so  that, 
in  the  minds  of  all  those  three, — the  Xaval 
officer,  the  young  girl,  and  the  little  child, — 
the  names  of  "  mother"  and  "  Heaven"  were 
inseparably  connected.  In  such  a  conversa- 
tion it  was  very  easy  for  Marianna  to  intro- 
duce the  subject  of  a  future  life.  She  said 
that  she  had  always  felt  the  truth  of  what 
aunt  Naomi  had  told  her, — that,  in  Heaven 
we-  shall  meet  and  know  again  the  blessed 
ones  who  have  been  dear  to  us  upon  earth, 
and  who  shall  then  receive  us  with  a  love  and 
joy  unspeakable. 

"  Don't  you  think  so,  Lieutenant  ?"  added 
Muriaima. 


,n.  251 

"Yes; — Oh,  yes  !"  lie  answered,  with  an 
earnest  sincerity  that  could  not  be  mistaken  ; 
iind  lie  fixed  liis  eyes  upon  the  clear  blue 
heavens,  as  if  half  expecting  to  see  his  mother 
and  Blanche  looking  down  upon  and  watch- 
ing him  with  a  deathless  affection. 

"  But  it  is  strange,"  continued  Marianna, 
"  that  we  can  believe  so  much  more  easily  in 
the  love  of  our-  human  friends  than  in  the 
love  of  God,  who  gave  those  friends  to  ns  at 
first,  and  who  will  give  them  back  tons,  if  we 
will  only  accept  of  the  Heaven  that  lie  offers 
us !" 

"  It  is  very  easy,  Marianna,  for  such  a  one 
iis  you  to  be  a  Christian,"  said  Lieutenant 
Ferrand. 

u()h  no;" —  replied  Marianna,  "  and  what 
faith  I  have  has  been  given  to  me  in  answer 
to  many,  many  prayers." 

"Yes,   I    suppose    your    prayer^   may    be 


L.V2  \V  KECK  Kit's 

heard,  but  mine  have  not  seemed  to  he,"  re- 
turned Ferrand. 

"  Aunt  Xaonri  used  to  say  that  we  never 
can  tell  whether  we  have  faith  or  not  until 
God  declines  to  grant  us  something  that  we 
particularly  want,"  was  Marianna's  answer. 

"•  If  we  can  trust  him  then,  it  is  the  kind 
of  trust  he  requires.  If  our  faith  is  not 
strong  enough  for  that,  how  can  we  ever  ex- 
pect it  to  be  followed  by  everlasting  happi- 
ness in  Heaven,  by  sharing  in  the  glory  of 
Jesus,  and  by  enjoying  again  the  company  of 
such  dear  friends  as  your  mother,  and  Bessie's 
and  mine  ?  They,  when  they  were  in  this 
world,  bore  every  trial  so  sweetly  and  meek- 
ly ; — and  what  right  would  we  have  to  share 
their  1)1  is0-,  unless  we  can  prove  our  faith  as 
iliey  did  theirs  f 

Ferrand  was  silent,  but  every  expression 
in  his  speaking  eyes  and  sensitive  mouth 


LIEUTENANT  FERRAND'S  I?ETFRN.-Pa£re252 


253 

showed  that  his  feelings  were  both  touched 
and  soothed  by  dwelling  upon  the  thoughts 
that  Marianna  had  suggested.  Yet  when,  in 
the  course  of  their  next  conversation,  she 
proceeded  with  all  possible  tact  and  delicacy, 
to  speak  of  the  importance  of  immediately 
securing  our  salvation,  by  coming  out  upon 
Christ's  side,  Ferrand  made  no  reply,  but 
hastily  rose  and  began  to  walk  about,  as  if 
for  exercise  and  recreation,  but  with  unmis- 
takable disturbance  of  mind.  Of  late,  he 
had  kept  nothing  of  his  share  of  the  wreck- 
er's spoil,  except  what  sufficed  to  pay  his 
board,  but  he  knew  that  both  he  and  his 
child  owed  their  support  to  those  who  were 
often  guilty  of  acts  of  dishonesty  and  cruel 
wrong.  Having  met  with  nothing  but  fail- 
ure in  his  attempt  to  reform  the  wreckers, 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  had  given  up  the  idea,  in 
despair,  and  thus  lie  seemed  to  sanction,  or 
22 


254  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

connive  at  conduct  which  lie  detested  in  his 
soul.  The  hallowed  teachings  of  a  Christian 
mother  had  implanted  in  his  heart  enough  of 
religious  sensibility  to  make  him  feel  that  he 
was  living  contrary  to  conscience,  and  that, 
while  he  thus  lived,  it  was  impossible  to  make 
any  sincere  profession  of  religion.  Why, 
then,  did  he  not,  as  Blanche  had  recom- 
mended, leave  the  wreckers  at  once  ?  Be- 
cause he  had  not  the  moral  courage  to  break 
a  promise  which  lie  now  saw  it  was  wrong 
for  him  ever  to  have  given. 

Four  months  had  now  elapsed  since  Mrs. 
Ferrand's  death,  and  the  Lieutenant  said  to 
himself,  "  In  three  months  more,  the  year 
will  be  up,  and  then  I  shall  beout  of  this 
snare.  Then,  I  will  have  a  chance  to  become 
as  good  as  any  one  !" 

But  Ferrand's  case  was  to  aiford  a  sad 
warning  against  too  great,  though  very  com- 


WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD.         255 

mon  dangers.  The  first  of  these  consists  in 
putting  off  the  performance  of  good  reso- 
lutions, and  the  second  in  being  found  in  had 
company.  On  a  certain  occasion,  Giles  and 
several  others  of  the  wreckers,  had  taken  a 
voyage,  in  Lieutenant  Ferrand's  yacht,  to  the 
nearest  South  American  port,  in  order  to  dis- 
pose of  some  articles  which  they  knew  would 
there  find  a  ready  sale.  As  they  returned, 
they  saw  a  vessel  in  distress,  and  about  sink- 
ing. She  proved  to  be  from  Brazil,  and  had 
on  board  quite  a  large  sum  of  money  belong- 
ing to  the  Brazilian  government.  Though 
they  saved  the  lives  of  the  men  on  board,  by 
receiving  them  into  the  yacht,  the  wreckers 
laid  their  hands  upon  the  treasure,  and,  with 
much  exultation,  stowed  it  away  for  their  own 
use.  The  officer  of  the  Brazilian  govern- 
ment, in  whose  charge  the  money  was,  loudly 
demanded  its  return,  and  Giles  strongly  ad- 


5<>  WKKOKKRS  GRAN:>-C:I!LI>. 

vised  the  wreckers  not  t(>keepit,  but  neither 
threats  nor  persuasions  could  induce  them 
to  give  up  their  booty.  On  this  affair  bein^- 
reported  to  the  Brazilian  government,  it  was 
decided  that  the  crew  of  the  yacht  were 
pirates,  and  orders  were  given  to  seize  them 
at  the  first  opportunity.  A  few  weeks  after- 
wards, the  commander  of  the  sunken  Brazilian 
vessel  was  cruising  about  in  another  ship, 
when  he  again  encountered  the  wrecker's 
yacht.  This  time,  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was 
on  board,  and  in  command.  lie  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  heavy  robbery  which  his  crew  had 
committed,  as  they  had  purposely  kept  the 
affair  a  secret  from  him  ;— and  therefore,  he 
was  quite  indignant  when  the  Brazilians 
boarded  his  yacht,  and  ordered  himself  and 
crew  to  surrender,  as  pirates.  The  wreckers 
made  a  stout  resistance,  but  the  other  party 
bad  too  great  an  advantage  in  numbers.  Fer- 


WRECKER  8    GRAND-CHILI).  257 

rand  beheld  his  crew  falling  around  him,  either 
dead  or  severely  wounded, — with  the  ex- 
ception of  two  half  grown  boys,  who  jumped 
overboard  and  swam  to  a  neighboring  point 
of  land.  The  Lieutenant  himself  was  over- 
powered, dragged  on  board  the  Brazilian 
vessel,  and  thrown  upon  the  deck  so  roughly 
as  to  stun  him  for  a  few  moments.  He  was 
then  subjected  to  the  painful  and  mortifying 
process  of  having  his  hands  and  feet  tightly 
tied  together  with  coarse  ropes,  and  was  put 
into  the  vessel's  hold,  where,  thus  cruelly 
tied,  he  remained  all  night,  and  until  a  late 
hour  the  next  morning.  So  unexpected  was 
this  misfortune,  that  Ferrand  was  completely 
astonished  and  bewildered  by  it,  and  his  only 
distinct  sensations  were  those  of  bodily  pain 
and  indignation  at  the  manner  in  which  he 
was  treated.  The  next  morning,  they  reached 
Rio  Janeiro,  and  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was 
22* 


258  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

put  upon  trial,  as  a  pirate.  This  charge  of 
course,  he  denied,  but  acknowledged  that  he 
was  the  commander  of  the  wrecker's  yacht 
and  the  leader  of  its  crew.  One  thing  alone 
saved  him  from  a  speedy  and  ignominious 
death,  and  that  was  the  fact  that  no  one  could 
testify  to  having  seen  him  on  board  of  the 
yacht  on  the  occasion  when  the  Brazilian 
government's  money  was  taken.  It  was 
rather  a  perplexing  case,  but  the  authorities 
before  whom  he  was  tried  had  no  doubt  of 
Ferrand's  being  a  pirate,  and  he  was  >eiit  to 
prison  to  await  a  second  trial. 

And  now,  Lieutenant  Ferrand  found  him- 
self a  solitary  prisoner,  in  a  gloomy  chamber, 
with  walls  and  floor  of  stone,  in  one  of  the 
highest  stories  of  a  grim  old  castellated  for- 
tress. In  a  few  days,  hi>  desire  for  freedom 
became  almost  maddening  and  he  longed  for 
his  second  trial,  whateve.  its  result  might  be. 


WBBCREB'S  GRAND-CHILD.  251) 

But,  in  answer  to  his  repeated  questionings, 
the  jailor  at  Wgth  told  him  that  he  would, 
most  probably,  never  be  tried  again,  but 
would  be  kept  imprisoned  for  the  rest  of  his 
life,  as  a  dangerous  person,  wb.o  was  unfit  to 
be  at  liberty. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  TIME  OF  MOURNIXG  L\  THE  WRECKER^S  SETTLK- 

MKNT. NEW       IDE/YS      ARE      INTRODUCED 

AMONG  THE  WOMEN. MARIANNA   BE- 
GINS THE  GREAT  WORK  OF  HER  LIFE. 

E  two  lads  who,  as  we  have  men- 
tioned, contrived  to  escape  from  the 
captured  yacht,  made  their  way  back 
to  Florida,  with  the  sad  and  tragic  story 
which  they  had  to  relate.  There  was  seen, 
among  the  wives  and  families  of  the  slain 
wreckers,  every  form  of  wild  and  boisterous 
grief, — often  verging  upon  frenzy,  in  its  utter 
hopelessness  and  lack  of  any  heavenly  con- 
solation. Marianna  now  bitterly  reproached 
herself  with  not  having  had  the  courage 
plainly  and  directly  to  urge  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand  to  seek  his  soul's  salvation,  while  she 

(2G1) 


262  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

had  an  opportunity  to  do  so, — an  opportunity 
that  now,  in  all  probability  was  gone  forever. 
For  a  while,  she  tried  to  comfort  herself  with 
tlio  idea  with  which  she  often  soothed  Bessie, 
saying  that  she  "  hoped  Papa  would  soon  come 
back  again ;"  but,  as  time  passed  on,  she  be- 
came convinced  that  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was 
either  dead  or  doomed  to  a  long  imprison- 
ment. Yet,  few  indeed  are  those  situations 
in  life  in  which  we  have  not  the  resource  of 
prayer,  and  Marianna  wrestled  in  an  agony 
of  supplication,  for  the  unhappy,  erring, 
absent  one. 

"  Lord  of  Mercy,"  she  would  ejaculate,  "  if 
he  still  lives  on  earth,  let  him  not  die  with- 
out tasting  Thy  salvation !  Whatever  fate 
awaits  his  mortal  body,  give  eternal  life  unto 
his  soul ;  and  Oh,  let  not  the  prayers  of  his 
sainted  mother  and  wife,  or  even  these  weak, 


WRECKER'S  GKAND-CHILD.  263 

unworthy  petitions  of  mine,  be  poured  out 
to  Thee  in  vain  I" 

But,  keen  and  torturing  indeed  was  the 
remorse  that  now  seized  upon  Giles.  He 
did  not  forget, — he  could  not  forget,  until 
the  latest  moment  of  his  life, — that  his  per- 
suasions and  representations  had  induced 
Lieutenant  Ferrfmd  to  take  the  leadership  of 
the  wreckers,  and  thus  had  drawn  upon  him 
his  present  misfortune, — ending,  perhaps,  in 
an  untimely  death. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  Giles  had 
not  found  his  own  conscience  relieved  by  in- 
ducing another  person  to  take  the  outward 
responsibility  of  commanding  the  wreckers, 
and  now,  all  the  accumulated  transgressions 
of  years  seemed  at  once  to  press  upon  him, 
with  a  crushing  weight. 

One  morning,  when  Marianna  entered 
Giles's  cottage,  she  found  the  old  sailor  sit- 


U<;4  WRECKERS  GKAND-cnri.i . 

ting  with  his  elbows  supported  upon  his 
knees,  his  head  upon  his  hands,  and  weeping 
like  a  child. 

Mrs.  Giles  was  much  affected  by  such  an 
outbreak  of  emotion  as  she  had  never  known 
her  husband  to  give  way  to  before,  and 
she  sat  near  him,  endeavoring  to  dry  with 
her  check  apron  the  drops  of  sympathy 
which  flowed  from  her  own  eyes.  Marianna 
dreaded  that  she  "was  t«  be  told  some  sad 
news,  and  tremblingly  inquired,  u  Have  you 
heard  anything  of  the  Lieutenant  ?" 

"  Xo,''  groaned  Giles,  "  but  I  expect  that 
lie's  dead,  and  I  wish  I  was  too; — though 
7'ui  a  fool  to  wish  that,  for,  if  I  was  to  die, 
I  know  that  I'd  go  straight  down  to  ever- 
last  ing  torment  !" 

Marianna  could  only  answer  such  words 
as  these  by  telling  him  ••.!'  a  Saviour'.-  }<  \  e 
and  mercy,  and  urging  him  to  pray  that  his 


WRECKERS    GRAND-CHILD.  zO.> 

sins  might  be  washed  away  by  the  blood  shed 
on  Calvary. 

"  Ah,  I  wouldn't  know  how  to  go  about 
praying,"  answered  Giles,  "but,  if  I  could 
hear  you  pray  for  me, — then  I  might  try." 

Marianna  had  never  prayed  aloud  in  the 
hearing  of  any  person  but  little  Bessie,  and 
she  felt  a  natural  shrinking  from  the  idea  of 
attempting  it  in  the  presence  of  Giles  and  his 
wife ; — but  then  she  thought,  "  It  was  this 
cowardice  that  kept  me  from  talking  to  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand  as  I  should  have  done,  and  I 
ought  to  take  warning,  now,  against  commit- 
ting the  same  mistake  another  time." 

Accordingly,  asking  God  to  give  her 
strength,  she  knelt  down,  and  prayed  that 
this  repentant  man,  and  his  wife  also,  might 
be  enabled  to  avail  themselves  of  that  remedy 
for  sin  which  Jesus  has  provided.  M;-;!  ;i- 
na's prayer  was  short,  but  very  much  t<«  the 
23 


266  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

point,  and  such  was  its  effect  upon  Giles,  that 
as  soon  as  she  concluded,  he  fell  upon  his 
knees,  bowed  his  head,  and  clasping  his  hands 
together,  exclaimed,  "  Yes,  good  Lord,  for- 
give my  sins,  and  help  me,  after  this,  to  live 
in  such  a  way  as  to  show  that  I'm  really  sor- 
ry for  them !  I  don't  dare  to  ask  it  except 
for  Christ's  sake.  Amen." 

Completely  overcome  by  hearing  such 
words  proceed  from  her  husband's  lips,  Mrs. 
Giles  cried  out,  "  Oh,  pray  for  me  too  !"- 
Marianna,  rejoiced  and  encouraged  by  Giles's 
prayer,  immediately  complied  with  tho  re- 
quest. 

An  old  Bible,  which  had  long  been  hidden 
away  in  dust  and  neglect,  was  now  hunted 
up,  and,  assisting  them  to  find  some  chapters 
which  seemed  especially  suited  to  the.r  ease, 
Marianna  left  Giles  and  his  wife  to  draw 
strength  and  comfort  from  its  pages.  TI:3 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  26T 

next  day  she  again  went  to  the  old  sailor' & 
cottage,  but  found  only  Mrs.  Giles  at  home. 
She  stated  that  her  husband  had  gone  to  see 
another  wrecker,  whose  eldest  son  had  been 
killed  at  the  time  of  Lieutenant  Ferrand'* 
capture ; — and  Giles  washed  to  pour  into  the 
afflicted  father's  heart  that  balm  of  Divine 
love  and  mercy  whose  healing  power  he  him- 
self had  just  discovered.  Marianna  found 
Mrs.  Giles  herself  filled  with  the  trembling* 
joy  of  one  who,  in  olden  days,  touched  the 
hem  of  the  Saviour's  garment,  and  found  her 
malady  healed  at  once,  yet  scarcely  dared  to 
believe  that  the  Lord  would  look  on  her  with 
favor. 

"This  is  a  solemn  time  among  our  people," 
she  remarked,  "  but,  if  there  was  only  any 
sorrow  for  sin  mixed  with  it,  the  mourning 
of  many  a  one  would  soon  be  turned  into 
gladness !" 


268  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

c;  As  I  lay  awake  last  night,"  said  Marian- 
na,  "  I  kept  thinking  that  this  would  be  the 
very  time  to  start  a  Sunday-school  here." 

It  had  been  so  many  years  since 'Mrs  Giles 
had  even  heard  the  name  of  a  Sunday-school, 
that  scarcely  anything  could  have  sounded 
more  novel  and  startling  to  her  than  did  this 
suggestion  of  Marianna.  She  owned  that 
"  Such  a  thing  would  be  very  nice  indeed,  if 
it  could  be  done," — but  it  was  evident  that 
-she  thought  the  scheme  rather  wild  and  vi>- 
ionary.  Marianna  replied  that  she  considered 
.such  an  object  worth  trying  for,  at  any  rate, 
.and  she  was  willing  to  take  the  burden  of 
the  first  trial  upon  herself,  if  Mrs.  Giles 
would  only  second  her  efforts.  The  promise 
to  do  this  was  honestly,  yet  timidly  given, 
and,  as  soon  as  Marianna  left  the  cottage,  she 
commenced  a  round  of  visits  to  the  women  of 
the  wrecker  families,. 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  269 

The  first  upon  whom  she  called  was  Mrs. 
Clarke, — the  young  woman  who,  when  she 
brought  some  fish  to  the  island,  had  conveyed 
to  Marianna  the  news  of  the  wreck  of  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand's  yacht,  and  the  death  of 
John  Ross.  By  the  recent  calamity  on  board 
that  same  vessel,  Mrs.  Clarke  had  now  lost 
her  husband.  Marianna  found  her  sitting 
with  her  infant  child  upon  her  lap,  and 
another  little  boy,  a  few  years  older,  playing 
about  the  room.  A  moody  dejection  appeared 
in  the  widow's  looks  and  attitude,  and,  im- 
mediately after  inviting  Marianna  to  take  a 
seat,  she  began  to  talk  of  her  recent  loss. 

"  All  that  I  can  think  of,"  she  exclaimed 
with  dry  and  burning  eyes,  "  is  to  have  my 
husband's  death  revenged,  and  it  shall  be 
revenged,  yet !" 

"  On  whom  would  you  revenge  it?"  asked 
Marianna,  "  On  the  Brazilians  ?" 
23* 


270  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

"  Yes,  indeed.  The  blood-sucking  wretches. 
Oh,  I  could"— 

"  Yes,  interrupted  Marianna,  "  but  the 
Brazilians  are  completely  out  of  our  reach, 
for,  now,  we  have  no  vessel  that  can  venture 
far  from  the  coast.  The  best  thing  that  we 
can  do  is  to  be  revenged  on  the  cause  of  this 
sorrowful  misfortune." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  Why,  it  is  this  way  that  our  people  have 
of  taking  things  away  from  their  rightful 
owners,  and  sometimes  ill-treating  the  owners, 
if  they  want  their  property  back  again,"  an- 
swered Marianna. 

"  AY  ell,"  returned  the  widow,  moodily, 
"since  this  has  happened  to  my  husband,  I 
don't  care  what  any  one  else  does,  or  what  be- 
comes of  them !" 

"  Yes, — here  are  these  two  dear  little  boys 
of  yours,  that  I  hope  will  grow  up  to  be  a 


WKKCKKJfc'fl    GRAND-CHILI).  271 

joy  and  comfort  to  their  mother's  heart. 
Would  you  not  like  to  see  them  come  to.  be 
honest,  respectable  men,  whom  no  one  could 
dare  to  call  " pirates,"  or  "thieves?"  Then, 
if  they  should  never  break  the  laws,  their 
country  would  protect  them  against  the  Bra- 
zilians, or  any  body  else,  and  would  make  that 
person  pay  dearly  that  should  dare  to  raise 
a  hand  against  their  lives  !" 

"  Indeed,  I  wish  it  could  be  so  ;" — answered 
the  mother,  as  she  looked  at  her  children  ; 
"  but  I  suppose  they  will  grow  up  to  be  just 
like  the  other  wreckers." 

"  No,"  said  Mariaima,  "  Mrs.  Giles  and  I 
are  going  to  try  to  do  something  for  the 
children  of  this  place,  to  save  them  from  such 
dangers  as  their  fathers  have  perished  by. 
Next  Sunday,  I  mean  to  gather  the  boys  and 
p'irls  in  Mrs.  Giles's  house  and  teach  them 

C3 

good   things  out  of  the   Bible,  that  will    be 


272  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

useful  to  them  all  their  lives.  Wont  you 
let  your  little  Johnnie  come,  Mrs.  Clarke  P 

Marianna  asked  this  question  with  undis- 
sembled  anxiety,  and,  after  a  moment's  pause,. 
was  rejoiced  to  hear  the  frank  response, 
k%  Yes,  to-be-sure.  It  can't  hurt  him,  any- 
how !" 

Having  gained  this  much,  Yon  Ulden's 
granddaughter  proceeded  to  visit  another 
woman  who  had  lost  near  relatives  when  the 
yacht  was  captured,  and  some  of  those  who 
had  not, — were  easily  convinced  that  they 
ought  to  accept  the  late  calamity  as  a  warn- 
ing to  train  up  their  children  in  a  better  way 
than  that  which  the  elder  generation  had 
pursued.  Others  of  a  more  careless  disposi- 
tion, gave  their  consent  also,  partly  to  oblige 
Mariamia,  and  partly  because,  as  one  of  them 
said,  she  u  s 'posed  it  would  be  some  fun  for 
the  young  ones/1 


WBKCKKR$  «RA.ND-OHJLI>.  273 

Tlie  fathers,  as  a  general  thing,  seemed  to 
regard  it  as  a  matter  of  not  much  consequence 
one  way  or  the  other.  So  long  as  they  them- 
selves were  not  required  to  attend  upon  any 
religious  service,  they  were  content.  But 
some  of  the  parents,  when  they  accepted  Ma- 
rianna's  offer,  did  so  with  a  hearty  satisfac- 
tion ;  for  there  are  few  fathers  and  mothers 
«o  ignorant,  or  so  hardened,  as  not  to  he  ca- 
pable of  forming  a  wish  that  their  children 
may  be  wiser  and  better  than  themselves. 
At  some  of  the  wrecker's  cottages,  however, 
Marianna  had  to  talk  a  good  deal  before  she 
could  effect  her  object,  and  both  her  grand- 
father and  Bessie  complained  so  much  when 
she  stayed  long  away  from  home,  that  two  or 
three  days  elapsed  before  she  could  get 
through  with  all  her  visits. 

Each  visit  from  Marianna  was  followed  up 
on  the  succeeding  day,  by  one  from  Mrs. 


274:  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Giles,  whose  conversation  was  directed  to  the 
same  object,  and  whose  words,  simple  and 
unpolished  as  they  were,  had  great  weight 
with  the  neighbors. 

The  boys  and  girls,  when  asked  if  they 
wished  to  go,  almost  always  said  u  Yes,"  out 
of  curiosity  to  see  to  what  a  Sunday-school 
was  like. 

The  first  Sabbath,  Marianna  had  quite  an 
encouraging  attendance  of  children, — from 
four  years  old  to  fourteen,  in  Giles's  sitting- 
room,  and  Bessie  Ferrand  occupied  a  chair 
by  the  youthful  teacher.  Bessie  was  the  only 
scholar  who  had  on  shoes  or  stockings ;  and 
those  restless  bare  feet,  which  were  almost 
continually  kicking  and  flourishing  about, 
were  all  unwashed, — for  very  few  of  their 
owners  had  even  clean  faces  or  hands.  So 
far  from  any  of  these  children  ever  having  at- 
tended a  Sunday-school  before,  they  had 


:    WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  275 

never  hoard  of  such  an  institution,  and  it 
may  be  easily  imagined  that  Marianna  her- 
self knew  very  little  about  the  way  in  which 
these  schools  are  managed.  The  children 
spoke  aloud  to  each  other,  without  hesitation, 
about  whatever  came  uppermost  in  their 
minds.  There  was  considerable  laughing 
and  playing,  and  many  complaints  of  pinch- 
ings,  pushings,  and  strikings,  followed  by 
threats  to  pay  back  these  injuries,  when  the 
Sunday-school  was  over.  Marianna,  however, 
was  neither  surprised  nor  discouraged  by  all 
this,  but  thought  herself  sufficiently  fortunate 
in  being  able  to  gain  the  attention  of  her  wild 
flock,  whenever  she  spoke  to  them. 

She  commenced  by  singing  a  hymn,  to 
which  all  the  children  listened  with  absorbed 
and  pleas-jd  attention ;  but,  when  she  endeav- 
ortd  to  teach  them  the  words,  their  rustic 
bashf  illness  would  not  permit  them  to  attempt 


276  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

to  sing.  Marianna  then  read  aloud  a  chapter 
from  the  New  Testament,  giving  clear  arid 
simple  explanations  as  she  went  along,  and 
she  was  gratified  to  hear  some  of  the  children 
asking  questions  in  regard  to  what  had  been 
read, — though  it  took  a  good  deal  of  time 
to  answer  those  questions  fully  and  plainly 
enough  to  make  herself  understood.  But 
these  scholars  could  not  get  any  lessons,  be- 
cause none  of  them  could  read,  and  very 
few  even  knew  their  letters.  Marianna  saw 
that  this  ignorance  was  a  great  obstacle,  and, 
therefore,  she  spent  the  most  of  the  first  Sun- 
day-school session  in  giving  her  scholars  in- 
struction in  the  alphabet,  or  in  easy  spelling. 
Next  Sunday,  on  hearing  little  Bessie  join 
Marianna  in  singing  a  simple  hymn,  some  of 
the  most  ambitious  pupils  were  convinced 
that  they,  also,  must  have  the  ability  to  learn 
to  sing  it,  and  they  made  considerable  pro- 


WRECK EK'S    GRAND-CHILD.  277 

gress  in  that  one  afternoon.  The  rest  of  the 
scholars  followed  their  example,  and  Marian- 
na  then  gave  them  texts  of  Scripture  to  com- 
mit to  memory  from  her  dictation.  We  can 
easily  believe  that  it  was  hard  work  for  this 
young  girl  to  teach  a  school  in  which  the 
scholars  had  no  books,  and  could  not  have 
used  them  if  they  had ;  and  where  she  was 
obliged  to  repeat  over  and  over  'everything 
which  she  wished  her  pupils  to  learn  ; — yet 
she  thought  herself  fully  compensated  by  the 
progress  which  they  made. 

The  wreckers  and  their  wives  began  to  re- 
gard their  children  as  prodigies,  when  they 
heard  them  singing  hymns,  and  repeating 
what  they  had  learned  on  the  Sabbath ;  and,  in 
order  to  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  and 
hearing  them  in  the  very  act  of  acquiring 
this  wonderful  knowledge,  many  of  the 
mothers  and  some  of  the  fathers  now  came 
24 


278  WKECKER'S  GKAND-CHILD. 

in,  and  remained  as  spectators  and  list- 
eners, during  the  Sabbath-school  exercises. 
They  were  silent  and  respectful,  for  they 
felt  astonished  at  the  energy  and  tact  of  Ma- 
rianna,  and  were  touched  by  the  love  and 
patience  which  inspired  her  in  her  work. 

A  young  woman, — the  daughter  of  one  of 
the  wreckers, — who  had  always  been  remark- 
able for  her  seriousness  and  quiet  disposition, 
was  so  charmed  with  Marianna's  work  that 
.she  volunteered  to  assist  her  in  it.  and  it  soon 
became  evident  that  she  was  taught  of  God 
for  this  purpose.  Finding  that  the  whole 
settlement  was  becoming  interested  in  the 
Sunday-school,  Giles  set  to  work  and  collected 
a  Bible-class  of  men,  and  Mrs.  Giles, — though 
with  much  trembling  and  self-distrust, — suf- 
fered herself  to  be  persuaded  to  become  the 
teacher  of  a  little  band  of  women . 

The  progress  of  the  Sunday-school  was  at- 


WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD.          2 TO 

tended  by  a  corresponding  reform  in  the 
grown  people  of  the  wrecker  community. 
Samuel  Giles  was  now  the  man  who  had 
most  influence  and  authority  among  the 
wreckers,  and  he  was  resolved,  henceforth, 
to  walk  in  the  fear  of  God.  For  awhile, 
he  did  not  explain  to  his  companions 
the  exact  nature  of  the  resolutions  which  lie- 
had  taken  ;  nor  did  he  urge  them,  in  so- 
many  words,  to  pledge  themselves  to  a  new 
course  of  conduct.  He  preached  to  them, 
only  by  his  daily  example,  by  actions  of  hu- 
manity, honesty,  and  self-sacrifice, — by  fre- 
quent references  to  God,  as  being  both  the 
witness  and  the  judge  of  all  things, — and  by 
reading  his  Bible,  and  holding  domestic  wor- 
,-hip,  with  his  wife, — regardless  of  contemp- 
tuous or  disapproving  beholders.  When  any 
man  seemed  serious  or  impressed,  Giles  took 
the  opportunity  of  telling  him  how,  through 


U80  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

the  merit  of  atoning  blood,  we  may  become 
heirs  to  the  riches  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Marianna  used  all  her  powers  of  mind  to 
win  the  females  of  the  settlement  to  love  the 
beauty  of  holiness ;  and  Mrs.  Giles,  though 
naturally  a  woman  of  few  words,  could  al- 
ways clearly  and  distinctly  bear  witness  to 
the  truth,  when  she  felt  it  her  duty  to  do  so. 
That  divine  and  mysterious  power  which 
was,  at  first,  a  hidden  leaven,  worked  grad- 
ually and  noiselessly,  until,  at  length,  its  ef- 
fects might  have  been  seen  by  any  eye.  Some 
of  the  wreckers  openly  testified  their  repen- 
tance for  past  wickedness,  and  embraced 
the  Saviour's  offers  of  pardon.  The  Sabbath 
was  generally  observed ; — shipwrecked  peo- 
ple were  treated  with  kindness  and  humanity  ; 
and  it  now  came  to  be  considered  a  disgrace- 
ful thing  for  any  wrecker  to  keep  possession 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  281 

of  goods  whose  lawful  owner  was  present  to 
claim  them. 

We  have  related  these  pleasing  changes 
with,  some  rapidity,  but  it  must  not  be  sup- 
posed that  they  were  the  growth  of  a  few 
days.  The  degree  of  progress  which  we  have 
just  described,  was  not  reached  until  nearly 
two  years  after  the  capture  of  Lieutenant 
Ferrand.  During  that  time,  no  tidings  of 
the  unfortunate  prisoner  reached  the  ears  of 
;.iiy  one  who  took  an  interest  in  his  fate,  and 
the  people  of  the  wrecker  settlement  always 
spoke  of  him  as  one  who  was  numbered  with 
the  dead. 

Bessie  was  now  a  lovely  and  intelligent 
child  of  six  years,  and,  as  she  grew  older, 
instead  of  gradually  losing  the  remembrance 
of  her  father,  she  dwelt  upon  his  loss  with  a 
deeper  regret,  and  cherished  more  fondly  the 
dim  hope  that  he  might  yet  be  restored  to 


28^  WKECKEK  S    GRAND-CHILD. 

her.  Xot  a  night  or  a  morning  came,  but 
I3essie,  with  folded  hands  and  up-lifted  gaze, 
knelt  and  prayed, — as  Marianna  had  long 
since  taught  her, — that  God  would  give  her 
father  back  to  her,  even  on  this  earth,  or,  if 
this  was  not  the  Divine  will,  that  she  might 
meet  him,  at  last,  among  the  glorified  in 
Heaven.  Very  often  did  Bessie  and  Marian- 
na sit  beside  the  island  shore,  and  talk  of 
Lieutenant  Ferrand,  until  both  of  them, 
sinking  into  silence,  would  remain  gazing 
across  the  sea,  as  if  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
.some  vessel  appearing  on  the  distant  waves, 
to  bring  back  the  absent  and  lamented  one. 
It  was  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  now 
speaking,  that  a  stranger,  or  a  person  who,  at 
first  appeared  to  be  such,  arrived  at  the 
wreckers'  settlement.  He  was  a  tall  youth 
of  respectable  and  prepossessing  appearance, 
who  would  have  been  supposed,  from  the 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  283 

manliness  of  his  figure  and  bearing,  to 
number  at  least  twenty-one  years,  though 
in  reality  he  was  but  little  over  eighteen. 
The  iirst  person  he  enquired  for  was  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand,  and  on  hearing  the  little 
that  was  known  of  his  late,  he  covered  his 
face  with  his  hands  and  wept  in  an  agony  ot 
grief  and  disappointment.  This  conduct 
caused  a  number  of  persons  to  gather  around 
and  gaze  at  him,  and  a  new  surprise  awaited 
them  when  they  learned  that  they  were  now 
looking  once  more  upon  the  long  absent 
Hugh  Itoss ! 

Giles  immediately  invited  the  youth  to  his 
cottage,  where  Marianna  and  Bessie  happened 
to  be  visiting  Mrs.  Giles.  Marianna  cor- 
dially greeted  Hugh  when  she  learned  who 
lie  was, — for  she  would  certainly  not  hav 
known  him  without  an  introduction. 

Hugh  recognized  her  at  once, — for  with 


284  WBECKEB^   (.'HAND-CHILD.. 

the  exception  of  having  grown  to  a  womanly 
height,  she  had  changed  but  little  in  appear- 
ance since  he  last  saw  her. 

"I  see,"  said  Hugh,  "that  joy  and  grief 
are  mixed  in  every  scene  of  our  lives.  The 
first  person  whom  I  spoke  with,  on  coming 
hack  to  this  place,  told  me  most  sorrowful 
and  unwelcome  news  ; — but  this  is  a  happy 
moment,  when  I  have  a  chance  at  last,  uf 
thanking  you,  Miss  Marianna,  for  all  that  you 
have  done  for  me!" 

"I  never  knew,"  said  Marianna,  '"that  I 
was  privileged  to  do  anything  for  you.*' 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Hugh,  "  it  was  you  vho 
first  told  me  of  a  Saviour; — it  was  you  -\\ho 
gave  me  this  Bible,  and  bade  me  look  intu  it 
whenever  I  wished  to  know  that  Saviour's 
will,  so  that  I  might  guide  my  conduct  ac- 
cordingly. Tins  Lible,  ever  since  then,  h::6 
been  my  counsellor,  and  a  "  lamp  to  my  feet." 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  285 

By  clinging  to  its  principles,  in  the  midst  of 
every  temptation,  I  have  gained  the  friend- 
ship of  the  good  and  generous,  who  contri- 
buted of  their  means  to  educate  me  for  a 
minister  of  the  gospel.  I  have  finished  my 
first  term  at  the  theological  seminary,  and  I 
have  taken  advantage  of  this  vacation  to  do 
what  I  have  long  intended, — come  here,  and 
see  if  I  can  accomplish  anything  for  the  souls 
of  the  wreckers." 

"  And  do  these  Christian  people,  who  are 
educating  you,  pay  for  your  board,  clothing 
and  traveling  expenses?"  asked  Giles. 

"  No,"  said  Hugh,  I  neither  expect  nor 
wish  them  to  do  that.  During  the  college 
terms,  I  devote  my  spare  hours  to  copying 
for  lawyers,  and  in  vacation,  I  act  as  a  col- 
porteur, going  about  selling  religious  books, 
and  getting  subscribers  for  religious  news- 
papers. I  am  very  thankful  indeed  to  be  able 


286  WRECKER'S  <;I:AXIM:HII.D. 

to  earn  my  own  living,  and  pursue  my  studies, 
at  the  same  time,  and  if  the  Lord  will  bring 
me  into  the  gospel  ministry,  and  bless  my 
labors  in  it,  I  ask  for  nothing  more !" 

Marianna, — as  was  generally  the  case, 
when  she  went  away  from  home, — had  been 
obliged  to  promise  her  grandfather  that  she 
would  soon  return,  and,  after  a  little  more 
conversation  in  regard  to  Hugh's  future 
work,  she  rose  to  depart.  Bessie  had  been 
out  upon  the  .  beach,  gathering  she -Is  and 
curious  pebbles,  but,  at  Marianna's  call,  she 
now  came  bounding  into  the  cottage. 

"Why,  what  sweet  little  girl  is  this  C 
asked  Hugh,  taking  the  child's  hand. 

"Whom  does  she  look  like*"  said  Ma- 
rianna." 

"She  has  Lieutenant  Ferrand's  eyes,"  re- 
plied Hugh,  turning  pale  with  emotion. 

Marianna  Gen  told  him  of  the  coming  of 


AVllEOKEll's    GKAXD-C1IILD.  287 

Lieutenant  Ferrand's  wife  and  child  to 
Florida,  and  of  Mrs.  Ferrand's  death, — cir- 
cumstances with  which  Hugh  was  unac- 
quainted, as  they  had  taken  place  since  his 
•departure  from  that  neighborhood.  This 
story  was,  to  young  Ross,  a  very  interesting 
and  affecting  one,  and,  at  its  conclusion,  he 
clasped  Bessie  to  his  bosom  with  a  fervor  that 
startled  her. 

"  My  heart  will  never  be  at  rest,"  exclaimed 
Hugh,  "  until  I  have  found  out  the  fete  of 
this  dear  child's  father,  and  until  I  have  tried 
to  do  something  in  his  behalf,  if  he  is  yet 
alive." 

Giles  declared  that  Hugh  must  be  his 
guest  while  he  remained  in  Florida,  and 
young  Ross  slept  that  night  in  the  room 
which  had  formerly  been  occupied  by  Lieu- 
tenant Ferrand,  and  where  the  wrecker's 
orphan  boy  had  bidden  farewell  to  his  earliest 


288  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

friend,  before  he  went  forth,  alone,  into  the 
world. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  Hugh  was 
much  surprised,  that  afternoon,  to  see  all  the 
children,  and  a  majority  of  the  grown  people 
in  the  settlement,  come  thronging  into  Giles's 
house.  Marianna  and  Bessie  were  among 
the  earliest  arrivals.  Marianna  greatly  en- 
joyed Hugh's  unspeakable  astonishment, 
when  he  found  that  here  was  really  a  Sunday- 
school, — and  a  nourishing  one  too, — in  the 
wreckers'  village.  By  the  time  the  exer- 
cises closed,  young  Ross  had  sufficiently  re- 
covered from  his  bewilderment  to  address 
those  who  were  there  present,  and  to  endeavor 
to  tell  them  something  of  the  joy  which  he 
felt  at  seeing  what  God  had  wrought  among 
them.  He  told  the  wreckers'  children  that 
he  had  been  one  of  themselves,  and  one  of 
the  poorest  and  most  neglected  boys  in  the 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  289 

wrecker  settlement;  but  that  while  he  re- 
mained in  his  native  place,  no  Sunday-school 
had  ever  opened  for  him  those  kindly  doors 
which  welcome  the  humblest  and  most  des- 
pised. He  was  quite  a  tall  boy  when  he  last 
left  the  settlement,  and  went  to  Tallahassee, 
but  he  had  become  one  of  the  scholars  of  a 
Sunday-school  in  that  city,  and  by  the  in- 
structions which  he  there  received,  had 
learned  to  understand  more  and  more  fully 
the  teachings  of  that  Bible  which  was  his 
only  guide  and  counsellor.  When  he  left 
Tallahassee,  and  went  to  another  city,  to  take 
a  situation  in  a  store,  he  immediately  joined 
another  Sunday-school,  and  it  was  his  teacher 
there  who  had  set  on  foot  a  movement, 
among  the  wealthy  members  of  the  church, 
to  have  him  educated  for  the  ministry.  Hav- 
ing thus  related  his  story  to  the  listening 


25 


'290  \VKKCKKirs    GRAND-CHILI). 

children,  Hugh  addressed  himself  to  the 
grown  people  present. 

"  Your  Sunday-school,"  said  he,  "  has  got 
so  far  that  it  is  time  for  it  to  go  a  good  deal 
farther.  Already,  this  room  is  so  crowded 
that  it  is  neither  pleasant  nor  convenient, 
and  soon  it  will  be  impossible  to  find  room 
for  all  who  wish  to  come  in.  Why  not  set 
to  work  and  put  up  a  building  that  will  be 
worthy  of  the  purpose,  and  a  credit  to  this 
place?" 

This  was  one  of  the  thoughts  that  are  des- 
tined not  to  die,  and  be  forgotten, — because 
God  sets  the  seal  of  His  approval  upon  them, 
and  in  their  influence  and  effects  they  be- 
come immortal. 

The  people  talked  over  the  new  suggestion, 
and  Marianna  and  the  Gileses  gave  it  all  the 
weight  of  their  hearty  approval.  By  the  ad- 
vice of  Giles,  three  or  four  of  the  wreckers 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  291 

had  built  for  themselves  small  trading  vessels, 
and  a  couple  of  these  men  started  for  the 
nearest  town  upon  the  coast,  to  bring  home 
such  building  materials  as  were  not  to  be 
procured  near  the  settlement.  Almost  all 
the  wreckers  gave  more  or  less  assistance  in 
putting  up  the  building,  and  not  many  weeks 
after  Hugh  had  first  started  the  idea,  it  was 
ready  for  use.  The  edifice  was  one  story 
high,  and  contained  but  one  room  ;  but  this 
room  was  spacious  enough  to  wear,  in  the 
eyes  of  the  wrecker  community,  something 
of  an  air  of  grandeur.  It  was,  in  truth,  a 
pleasant  and  airy  apartment,  with  neatly 
plastered  and  white-washed  walls.  Under 
Hugh's  directions,  a  number  of  benches,  and 
a  reading  desk,  were  made,  and  arranged  in 
proper  order. 

On  the  morning  of  the  next  Sabbath,  after 
the    completion    of    the    building,     Hugh 


292  WRKCKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

preached  in  it,  the  first  religious  discourse 
ever  publicly  delivered  upon  this  portion  of 
the  coast  of  Florida.  Curiosity  induced  a 
good  attendance,  and  the  young  theological 
student  adapted  the  style  of  his  discourse  to 
his  auditors,  making  it  plain,  elear,  pointed, 
and  energetic. 

Hugh  saw  that  some  of  his  hearers  were 
seriously  impressed,  and  he  felt  that  there 
was  more  hope  of  these  people  than  of  those 
who,  hearing  the  gospel  often  preached,  gain 
nothing  by  it  except  the  facility  of  treating 
with  cold  indifference  both  the  gracious 
promises,  and  the  terrible  warnings  of  the 
Almighty.  In  the  afternoon,  Sunday-school 
was  held,  for  the  first  time,  in  the  new  room, 
but,  before  the  services  could  begin,  at  least 
ten  minutes  had  to  be  devoted  to  the  child- 
ren's exclamations  of  delight  concerning 
"  Such  a  splendid,  beautiful  place  !*'  The 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  293 

parents,  with  a  not  inexcusable  pride  and 
self-gratulation,  exchanged  remarks  to  the 
same  effect.  Years  ago,  Hugh  had  received 
from  Marianna  his  first  religious  instructions, 
and  he  was  now  enabled, — though  in  a  very 
small  degree, — to  make  some  repayment,  by 
telling  her  how  things  were  managed  in  the 
city  Sunday-schools,  as  regarded  many  little 
details  of  which  she  had  hitherto  been  igno- 
rant. 

On  the  following  day,  Hugh  said  to  Ma- 
rianna, •"  Now  that  my  first  duty  here  is  ac- 
complished, I  will,  for  awhile,  give  my  whole 
mind  to  an  effort  to  do  something  for  Lieuten- 
ant Ferrand.  First,  T  must  goto  Brazil,  and 
learn  if  he  is  still  alive,  and  if  so,  upon  what 
grounds  he  is  kept  a  prisoner.  Then,  I  will 
return  to  New- York,  and  see  if  he  has  no 
friends  or  relations  who  will  interest  them- 
selves in  his  behalf." 
25* 


294  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Marianna  warmly  approved  of  this  design, 
and,  on  the  same  evening,  Hugh  explained 
it  before  a  meeting  of  the  wreckers.  Each 
of  the  men  whom  we  have  mentioned  as 
owning  vessels,  immediately  offered  Hugh 
his  services,  and  the  use  of  his  craft,  to  go  to 
Brazil,  and  afterwards  to  New  York,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  an  attempt  to  liberate 
Lieutenant  Ferrand.  Hugh  could  accept 
the  offer  of  only  one  of  these  men,  and,  after 
making  a  selection,  the  next  day  was  fixed  for 
the  time  of  starting  upon  the  voyage. 

Just  before  he  sailed,  Hugh  went  to  take 
leave  of  Marianna  and  Bessie,  and  to  receive 
their  assurance  that  not  a  day  or  night,  and, 
indeed,  not  one  hour  of  waking  life  should 
pass,  in  which  their  prayers  would  not  ascend 
to  Heaven  for  the  success  of  his  mission. 

"I  think,"  said  Marianna,  "that,  while  you 
are  away,  you  will  need  more  money  than 


WRECK KK  S    GRAND-CHILD.  295 

you  now  have.  Take  these,  and  sell  them." 
As  she  spoke,  she  placed  in  his  hand  a  little 
box,  containing  a  pair  of  diamond  ear-drops, 
and  then  went  on  to  say,  "  Years  ago,  grand- 
father got  these  from  some  lady  who  was 
drowned  upon  our  coast.  He  gave  them  to 
me,  and  now,  for  the  first  time,  I  feel 
glad  of  having  them,  because  they  may  help 
you  in  trying  to  restore  Bessie's  father  to 
freedom !" 

When  Hugh  bade  good-bye  to  Bessie,  and 
stooped  .down  to  kiss  her,  she  flung  her  arms 
nro;ind  his  neck,  and  exclaimed,  "  I  will  love 
you  always,  if  you  bring  my  Papa  back  to 
me  again !" 

Marianna  did  not  speak,  but  her  swimming 
eyes  and  quivering  lip  told  how  deep  were 
her  feelings.  The  vessel  was  ready,  the  wind 
was  favorable, — and  Hugh  set  *ail  upon  his 
voyage. 


206 

About  a  week  after  this,  a  large  vessel 
struck,  and  partially  went  to  pieces,  upon  a 
reef  opposite  the  wreckers' settlement.  Thi^ 
vessel  was  very  handsomely  fitted  up,  and 
furnished,  and  had  on  board  a  well  assorted 
cargo, — so  that  a  temptation  was  here  offered 
to  the  wreckers,  to  resume  their  old  habits? 
of  greedy  and  lawless  plunder.  But  there 
were  several  men  who  had  openly  come  out 
upon  the  Lord's  side,  in  a  little  prayer-meet- 
ing which,  for  the  last  two  Sabbath  evenings 
Giles  had  held  in  the  new  Sunday-school 
room ; — and  these  men  had  an  influence  in 
the  community  that  controlled  some  others 
who  would  willingly  have  yielded  to  tempta- 
tion. Under  the  direction  of  Giles  and  his 
fellow  Christians,  every  individual  on  board 
of  the  vessel  was  brought  safely  to  land, 
l.efore  any  attempt  was  made  to  save  the  car 
j.  Among  the  persons  rescued  was  the 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  297 

owner  of  the  vessel,  a  wealthy  merchant 
named  Le  Blanc, — with  his  wife  and  three 
children.  Mr.  Le  Blanc  had  with  him  a  very 
large  sum  of  money,  in  a  tin  box,  but  anxiety 
for  the  safety  of  his  wife  and  children  caused 
him  to  forget  this  box,  and  it  was  left  on 
board  of  the  wreck,  where  it  was  found  by 
two  of  the  converted  wreckers.  They  im- 
mediately brought  it  to  Le  Blanc,  saying, 
"  Here,  sir,  is  your  money."  Surprised  and 
pleased  by  the  honesty  and  humanity  of 
those  among  whom  he  had  been  thrown,  Le 
Blanc  determined  that  these  men  should  be 
rewarded  in  a  generous  manner.  He  made  a 
handsome  present  of  money  to  the  two  whom 
we  have  just  mentioned,  and  to  each  of 
those  who  had  been  instrumental  in  saving 
the  lives  of  himself  and  family,  and  he  like- 
wise declared  that  all  the  wreckers  were  wel- 
come to  divide  among  themselves  the  cargo, 


298  WRECKERS    GRAND-CHILD. 

provisions,  and  all  the  vessel's  furniture 
which  had  been  preserved. 

••  Xo\v,"  *aid  Giles,  to  some  persons  who 
had  murmured  and  sneered  at  the  plans  of 
reform,  "you  have  said  that  honesty  would 
be  a  losing  business,  but  you  see  that  it  is 
not  so !" 

Mrs.  Le  Blanc  was  a  Roman  Catholic 
lady,  but,  like  everyone  else,  she  was  charmed 
with  Marianna,  and  was  very  anxious  that 
she  should  pay  a  visit  to  the  city  of  St.  Augus- 
tine, where  the  Le  Blancs  resided.  This  was 
Marianna' s  first  opportunity  of  visiting  a  city, 
and  yet  she  unhesitatingly  declined  to  leave, 
even  for  a  short  time,  her  grandfather,  Bessie 
and  the  Sunday-school. 

At  length,  Mr.  Le  Blanc  said,  "  Well,  Miss 
Von  Ulden,  if  you  will  come  with  us  for  a 
week  or  ten  days,  I  will  send  back  with  you 


WRECKER'S    GRAND-CHILD.         209 

a  nice  little  library  of  books  for  your  Sun- 
day-school." 

Marianna  yielded  to  this  offer,  and  ascom- 
panied  the  Le  Blanc  family  to  St.  Augustine. 
Her  going  away,  even  for  a  short  time, 
caused  a  deep  sensation  in  the  wrecker  settle- 
ment. Though  the  people  there  had  always 
loved  and  honored  Marianna,  this  lirst  period 
of  her  absence  from  them  revealed  to  their 
hearts,  more  plainly  than  ever  before,  how 
very  dear  and  precious  this  young  girl  was 
to  all  around  her.  Many  of  tho  children 
and  young  people  viewed  her  departure 
wi  h  positive  alarm  and  consternation,  as 
though  they  feared  that,  when  she  was  ab- 
sent, all  the  social  and  religious  frame  of 
things  would  become  disjointed  and  fall  to 
pieces.  Mar i anna's  grandfather  was  left  to 
the  companionship  of  little  Bessie,  to  whom 
he  had  become  much  attached.  "While  her 


300  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

father  was  there,  and  frequently  visited  the 
island,  to  see  his  child,  Yon  Ulden  had  not 
deigned  to  take  any  notice  of  Bessie,  lest  she 
should  tell  Lieutenant  Ferrand  of  his  conde- 
scension. But,  since  her  father  was  gone, 
the  old  man  unbent  so  far  as  to  show  that  he 
considered  Bessie  a  pleasant  and  amusing 
companion  for  his  otherwise  dull  and  tedious 
hours.  She  gained  upon  his  favor  more 
rapidly  by  her  frank  and  fearless  disposition, 
which  caused  her  to  talk  to  Yon  Ulden  as 
freely  as  to  any  one  else,  and,  when  he  said 
things  which  were  meant  to  tease  and  dis- 
concert her,  she  often  answered  him  with  a 
saucy  archness  at  which  the  old  man  would 
grimly  smile. 

As  we  have  said,  St.  Augustine  was  the 
first  city  Marianna  had  ever  visited,  and  on 
arriving  there,  she  saw  around  her  as  much 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  301 

that  was  new  and  wonderful  as  most  people 
would  notice  at  Constantinople,  or  Cairo. 

"  Ah !"  said  Mrs.  Le  Blanc,  "  just  wait  un- 
til Sunday,  and  go  with  me  to  church,  and 
you  will  see  the  finest  sight  of  all !" 

When  Marianna  entered  the  Catholic 
Church  which  Mrs.  Le  Blanc  attended,  she 
became  dizzy  with  astonishment  and  admira- 
tion. The  architecture,  the  paintings,  the 
rich  adornments,  and  -the  music,  were  unlike 
any  thing  she  had  ever  thought  or  dreamed  of 
before.  Yet,  when  the  Catholic  lady  proudly 
inquired  if  this  was  not  the  best  church  to 
go  to,  Marianna  innocently  replied,  "  Oh, 
Mrs.  Le  Blanc,  it  is  very  splendid,  but  it 
does  not  feel  like  a  church !" 

Mr.  Le  Blanc  kept  his  promise,  and  provi- 
ded Marianna  with  a  nice  little  Sunday-school 
library  to  take  home  with  her.  All  the 
elder  children  had,  by  this  time,  learned  to 
26 


302  WRECKER' 3    GRAND-CHILD. 

read,  and,  when  this  treasure  of  books  ar- 
rived, they  thought  themselves  the  most 
favored  persons  upon  earth.  The  next  Sal>- 
bath  after  her  return,  on  entering  the  Sun- 
day-school room,  she  was  received  with 
cheering  demonstrations  of  welcome.  When 
she  had  an  opportunity  of  speaking  quietly 
aside  with  Mrs.  Giles,  she  remarked,  "How 
much  more  pleasant  this  place  is,  than  the 
grand  Catholic  church  where  I  went  with 
Mrs.  Le  Blanc !  The  painted  glass  windows 
looked  very  rich,  but  they  kept  out  the  light, 
so  that  one  could  scarcely  tell  whether  it 
was  night  or  day  ;  and,  they  have  great  tall 
candles  burning  all  the  time,  in  that  huge 
gloomy  church,  like  glow-worms  in  a  cave ! 
Now,  here,  we  have  God's  own  light ;  and 
the  sunshine,  streaming  in  so  cheerfully  up- 
on the  pure  white  walls,  makes  me  think  of 
the  brightness  that  is  in  one's  heart,  when 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  303 

the  gospel  truth  has  lighted  it  up,  and  the 
Holy  Spirit  has  purified  it !  Instead  of 
burning  incense,  filling  the  place  with  its 
smoke  and  sickly  smell,  we  have  the  scent  of 
fresh  flowers,  coming  in  at  the  open  win- 
dows. Instead  of  singing  in  a  strange  lan- 
guage, that  one  cannot  tell  a  word  of, — we 
have  those  dear  hymns,  that  seem  as  if  they 
were  telling  in  music  the  innermost  thoughts 
of  our  hearts; — and  even  the  sound  of  the 
great  organ  is  not  so  grand  and  solemn 
as  that  roaring  of  the  sea  that  comes  from 
the  beach  !" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

VON  ULDEN  IN  THE    SUNDAY-SCHOOL. THE    RE- 
SULT  OF    HUGH'S   JOURNEY    IN    BEHALF  OF 
LIEUTENANT  FERRAND. THE  PRISON- 
ER'S   EXPERIENCE. DEATH  OF 

VON  ULDEN. CONCLUSION. 

'  VER  since  Marianna  first  commenced 
Jp  her  Sunday-school,  Bessie  had  re- 
peatedly asked  "  Grandfather,"  ar 
she  called  Von  ITlden,  to  go  there  •\yith  her 
and  ho  had  always  refused.  Marianna  arm 
Mrs.  Giles,  had  given  the  same  invitation, 
but  in  vain.  One  Sabbath,  Bessie  was  par- 
ticularly importunate,  and,  partly  to  humor 
her,  and  partly  to  pass  away  the  time,  Von 
Uldcn  consented  to  go.  It  was  the  first  time 
that  he  had  been  over  to  the  main  land  since 
that  occasion,  years  ago,  when  the  scorn  and 

26*  (305) 


•"»»)fi  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

insolence  of  the  wreckers  had  driven  him  to 
return,  in  an  agony  of  rage  and  mortification, 
t )  his  lonely  island. 

But  now,  when  the  aged  man  entered  the 
Sunday-school  room  with  one  hand  grasping 
his  staff',  and  the  other  held  by  little  Bessie, 
every  one  gazed  at  him  in  silence,  and  with 
a  deeper  seriousness  than .  usual.  Marianna 
hastened  to  provide  him  with  a  comfortable 
seat,  and  Giles,  coming  up,  shook  hands 
with  him,  and  expressed  his  satisfaction  at 
seeing  him  there.  Von  Ulden  sat  in  silence, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor,  and  fea- 
tures as  grim  and  rigid  as  usual. 

WhiMi  the  children  joined  their  voices  in 
singing  a  hymn,  Yon  Ulden  suddenly  raised 
his  eyes  and  looked  around  at  them.  Now, 
the  Sunday-school  boys  and  girls  of  the 
wrecker  settlement  were  all  clean  and  neat 
in  their  dress,  and  the  appearance  of  both 


WKECKEK'S  GRAND-CHILD.  307 

scholars  and  parents  betokened  a  decent 
pride  that  had  once  been  unknown  to  them. 
Many  of  the  children  were  pretty  and  inter- 
esting. Their  faces  showed  their  earnest  in- 
terest in  the  hymn  that  flowed  so  sweetly 
from  their  lips.  No  human  heart  is  all  of 
stone,  and  Yon  Ulden  never  was  so  easily 
softened  as  in  the  presence  of  childhood  ; — 
for  men  and  women  had  given  him  only 
what  he  imagined  were  just  causes  to  hate 
them.  It  had  been  many,  many  years  si  net- 
he  had  heard  such  music  as  the  artless  melody 
of  those  childish  voices,  and  there  seemed  to 
thrill  within  his  breast  a  chord  which  hud 
been  so  long  untouched  that  he  had  forgotten 
its  existence.  Again  he  cast  down  his  eyes, 
but  now  all  his  features  seemed  to  be  work- 
ing with  the  effect  to  surpress  a  deep,  un- 
wonted emotion. 

It  seemed,  however,  that  it  was  not  an  un- 


308  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

pleasant  one,  for,  on  each  succeeding  Sabbath 
Yon  Ulden  suffered  himself  to  be  led  by  lit- 
tle Bessie  to  that  hallowed  place.  His  chief 
object  was  to  listen  to  the  singing  of  the 
children,  and  it  was  marvellous  to  see  a  soft- 
ening and  humanizing  tear  sometimes  glide 
down  the  deeply  furrowed  cheek  of  the  aged 
and  hardened  man ! 

One  Sabbath  evening,  Marianna  invited 
her  grandfather  to  go  with  her  to  the  prayer- 
meeting,  and  he  consented.  Several  persons 
arose  in  succession,  to  tell  what  the  Lord  had 
done  for  them,  or  to  ask  the  prayers  of  others 
in  their  behalf.  As  the  meeting  was  about 
to  conclude,  Von  Ulden  half  arose,  but  seemed 
to  change  his  mind,  and  was  about  to  sink 
back  again,  when  Marianna  placed  her  hand 
beneath  his  arm,  and  whispering,  "  Yes,  dear 
grandfather," — gently  assisted  him  to  his 
feet.  There  was  silence  for  a  moment  or 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  309 

two,  and  then,  in  hoarse  and  faltering  tones, 
Von  Ulden  said,  "  I  was  going  to  ask  you  to 
pray  for  me, — but  it  is  of  no  use ; — I  am  too 
wicked.  There  is  no  hope  for  such  a  man  as 
I  am!" 

"  Yes,  there  is  !"  cried  Giles,  "  The  lamp 
of  life  is  still  burning! — Jesus  still  says, 
*  Come !'  " — And  he  and  two  others  poured 
out  supplications  of  heart-warm  fervor,  that 
light  from  Heaven  might  dawn  upon  Yon 
Ulden' s  soul.  The  old  man  was  greatly 
moved,  yet,  he  was  not  able  to  realize  that 
there  could  be  mercy  for  him.  But, — "  Oh, 
the  height  and  depth  of  the  goodness  of 
God  !" — After  a  severe  spiritual  struggle  of 
several  days  and  nights,  Yon  Ulden  found 
peace  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross.  He  never 
said  much  concerning  his  feelings,  but,  all 
could  see,  by  his  words,  and  ways,  and  actions, 
that  he  had  become  a  new  creature. 


310  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Marianna  received  a  letter  from  Hugh,  con- 
veying deeply  interesting  tidings  from  Brazil. 
He  had  learned  that  Lieutenant  Ferrand  was 
still  alive,  and  imprisoned  in  a  certain  for- 
tress, but  lie  was  not  permitted  to  see  him. 
However,  Hugh  had  held  a  long  conversa- 
tion with  the  American  Consul  at  Rio,  and 
by  relating  Lieutenant  Ferrand's  whole  his- 
tory, had  so  far  interested  our  Consul  that 
he  immediately  applied  to  the  Brazilian 
authorities,  upon  the  prisoner's  behalf.  The 
authorities  agreed,  as  a  compromise,  to  re- 
lease Ferrand,  if  a  large  sum  of  money  was 
paid  down,  by  way  of  fine;  and  Hugh  was 
now  about  to  start  for  Xew  York,  in  order  to 
see  if  such  an  amount  could  be  raised  by  ap- 
plying to  the  Lieutenant's  friends. 

Six  weeks  more  elapsed,  when,  one  bright 
lovely  morning,  there  was  seen  coming  over 
the  sunny  ocean,  a  vessel  which  was  quickly 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  811 

recognized  as  the  craft  that  had  carried  Hugh 
from  Florida.  Those  who  first  saw  it  hast- 
ened to  communicate  the  news  toothers,  and 
every  man,  woman  or  child,  in  the  settlement 
who  was  able  to  leave  his  or  her  dwelling, 
came  hurrying  down  to  the  beach.  Marian- 
na  and  Bessie  ran  to  the  island  shore,  and 
stood  gazing  speechlessly  at  the  coming  ves- 
sel, each  with  her  hands  clasped  tightly  to- 
gether. 

At  some  distance  from  the  shore,  the  ves- 
sel cast  anchor,  and  a  small  boat  was  lowered, 
into  which  four  men  descended.  The  little 
boat  rowed  quickly  toward's  Yon  Ulden's 
island,  and,  soon,  all  who  were  gazing  to- 
wards it  saw  that  two  of  the  men  were 
wreckers,  who  held  the  oars,  another  was 
Hugh,  and  the  fourth  was  Lieutenant  Fer- 
rand. 

Loud  cheers,  and  shouts  of  joy,  burst  from 


312  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

all  the  groups  who  were  gathered  upon  the 
pnowy  beach,  and  the  wreckers  in  the  boat 
shouted  in  return  ;  but  Lieutenant  Ferrand 
and  Hugh  could  only  take  off  their  hats  and 
wave  them  to  the  crowd,  in  silence. 

"Minna,  isn't  that  my  Papa,  sitting  by 
Hugh  ?'"  fairly  shrieked  Bessie. 

"  It  is  !" — gasped  the  almost  tainting  Ma- 
rianna. 

The  boat,  as  we  have  said,  was  rowed  to- 
wards Von  Ulden's  island,  and,  presently, 
Lieutenant  Ferrand  sprang  upon  the  shore. 
Bessie  flew  to  meet  him,  and  when  he  lifted 
her  in  his  arms,  she  clung  about  his  neck  as 
though  determined,  by  holding  him  thus,  to 
prevent  the  risk  of  ever  being  separated  from 
her  father  again.  Marianna  sank  down  upon 
her  knees  on  the  sand  ; — it  was  the  only  posi- 
tion that  seemed  natural  to  her  at  such  a 
moment.  Her  cheeks  were  pale,  yet  her 


WRECKER'S  ORAXD-CIIILD.  313 

face  was  radiant; — her  hands  were  folded 
over  her  bosom,  and  her  eyes  raised  to  Hea- 
ven in  an  ecstacy  of  gratitude  and  devotion. 
Hugh  stood  by  in  silence,  but  he  would  not 
have  exchanged  the  feelings  of  that  never-to- 
be-forgotten  moment  for  a  whole  life-time  of 
selfish  pleasure.  It  was  such  a  moment  as 
seems  to  atone  for  years  of  darkness  and 
trouble,  and  to  vindicate  the  goodness  of 
Providence  in  mysteries  we  cannot  fathom. 
Hugh  had  obtained  a  part  of  the  large 
sum  required  for  Ferrand's  release  from  the 
Lieutenant's  wealthy  relatives;  but  the 
greater  portion  was  contributed  by  old  friends, 
who  had  not  forgotten  how  they  had  been 
benefitted  by  Ferrand's  generosity,  in  the 
days  when  he  was  rich  and  prosperous.  AV  e 
will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  emotions  felt 
upon  both  sides,  when  Hugh  appeared  in 
Ferrand's  prison,  to  tell  him  that  his  captiv- 
27 


314  WRECKER'S  ^RAND-CHILD. 

ity  was  at  an  end.  The  poor  boy,  upon 
whose  account  he  had  incurred  his  suspen- 
sion from  the  navy,  was  revealed  as  the  lib- 
erator and  benefactor  of  him  for  whose  kind- 
ness it  had  once  seemed  impossible  that  he 
should  ever  make  the  least  return ! 

Ferrand  had  raised  Marianna  from  her 
kneeling  attitude  upon  the  sand,  and  was  hold- 
ing her  hands  clasped  in  his,  when  the  sound 
of  tottering  steps  was  heard,  and  Von  Ulden 
appeared,  leaning  upon  his  staff.  He  extended 
liis  hand  to  the  returned  prisoner,  and  said, 
"  Come  to  my  house,  Lieutenant  Ferrand. 
It  was  once  a  tiger  s  den  ; — it  is  now  the 
dwelling  of  a  poor,  repentant  sinner !" 

"  Yes,  dear  sir,"  said  Hugh,  "  do  go  to 
Mr.  Yon  Ulden's  house,  and  I  will  cross  over 
to  the  mainland,  and  tell  the  people  that  you 
will  receive  their  congratulations  to-morrow. 

Lieutenant    Ferrand    was    not  nearly   so 


WRECKED    GUA.N.D-CIILLD.  315 

much  broken  down  by  his  long  confinement 
as  Marianna  and  Hugh  had  apprehended  he 
would  be,  and,  during  the  trip  from  Brazil, 
he  had  regained  not  a  little  of  the  strength 
which  he  had  lost, — yet  the  effects  of  his  im- 
prisonment were  easily  to  be  seen.  Close 
confinement,  and  prison,  fare,  had  blanched 
the  clear  light  brownish  tint  of  his  complex- 
ion to  a  chalky  white,  and  he  was  thinner 
than  he  had  ever  been  before.  Something 
of  nervousness  appeared  in  his  manner,  es- 
pecially in  the  wild  brightness  of  his  eyes, 
as  he  darted  them  around  at  those  beautiful 
and  familiar  scenes  from  which,  but  lately,  he 
had  seemed  to  be  cut  off  forever.  Yet,  he 
acted  and  spoke  with  surprising  energy  and 
cheerfulness,  considering  the  severe  ordoal 
through  which  he  had  passed,  and  his  sudden, 
change  of  situation. 

Lieutenant  Ferrand  had   been   sea  tod    in 


316  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Von  Ulden's  house  but  a  few  moments,  when 
Giles  and  his  wife  called  to  see  him.  Hugh 
bad  informed  the  wreckers  that  the  Lieuten- 
ant's present  strength  was  not  equal  to  any 
more  excitement  that  day,  but  that  he  would 
see  them  the  next  morning.  Giles,  however, 
could  not  .wait  even  this  long  before  he  gave 
utterance  to  what  was  weighing  upon  his 
mind.  On  entering  Lieutenant  Ferrand's 
presence,  Giles  was  greatly  agitated,  but  he 
Oid  not  oifer  to  approach  and  shake  hands, 
until  the  Lieutenant  came  up  to  him,  and 
taking  his  hand,  said,  "Well,  my  old  friend 
Giles,  I  am  sure  that  you  are  glad  to  see 
me!" 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  injured  friend,"  sobbed  the 
old  sailor,  "  I  am  glad  to  have  the  chance, 
t'iiitt  I  have  so  often  longed  for,  of  asking 
your  forgiveness ; — and  yet  I  am  cut  to  the 
heart  to  think  that  my  selfish  persuasions, — 


WRKCKKR  8      GRAND-CHILD.  317 

and  my  arguments  that  were  meant  to  de- 
ceive botlt  myself  am]  you,— led  you  to  be  a 
wrecker,  and  caused  this  sad  misfortune!" 

"Never  mind,"  said  Lieutenant  Ferrand, 
gently  and  kindly,  "  we  both  know  better 
now  than  we  did  then.  I  suppose  the  mis- 
fortune you  allude  to  is  my  being  shut  up  in 
prison; — but,  in  one  respect,  it  has  proved  a 
great  blessing  to  me." 

"How  is  that?"  said  Marianna;  "Please 
tell  us  the  whole  history,  Lieutenant." 

The  Lieutenant  complied  with  her  request, 
but  we  will  tell  the  story  somewhat  more 
briefly  than  he  did.  When  Ferrand  first 
realized  tbat  he  was  a  prisoner  for  a  long 
time, — perhaps  for  life,  the  idea  was  so  in- 
supportable that  he  threw  himself  against 
the  iron-bound  door  of  his  cell,  as  a  wild 
bird,  when  newly  caged,  will  sometimes  dash 
itself  against  the  wires  of  its  prison.  Then, 
27* 


318  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

exhausted  in  mind  and  body,  lie  sank  upon 
his  coarse,  hard  bed,  and  lay  for  hours 
in  a  trance-like  state,  while  confused  and 
changing  images  of  his  past  life  like  a  mov- 
ing panorama  swept  before  him.  His  jailers 
fully  expected  that  he  would  soon  either  die 
or  go  mad,  and,  on  a  certain  day,  one  of 
them  said  to  him,  "  Well,  American,  you  may 
be  a  fine  blade  at  fighting,  but  I  never  saw 
such  a  poor  hand  at  standing  this  cage  !" 

Ferrand  experienced  a  feeling  of  sharne 
at  this,  and  determined  that,  in  future,  he 
would  display  more  fortitude.  He  knew 
that,  in  order  to  do  so,  he  must  have  some  way 
of  occupying  his  mind,  and  he  thought  of 
various  devices  which  he  had  read  of  as  being 
employed  by  other  unhappy  prisoners,  t«> 
while  away  their  time,— but  none  of  them 
seemed  practicable  there.  What  would  he 
not  have  given  for  a  book!  But  then  the 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  319 

thought  struck  him  that  he  had  a  book, — the 
little  Bible  that  Blanche  had  given  him  upon 
her  dying  bed,  and  which  the  prison  authori- 
ties had  permitted  him  to  retain.  Blanche 
had  told  him,  too,  that  in  that  book  he 
would  find  comfort  for  life's  darkest  hour ; 
and  he  knew  that  it  would  furnish  him  with 
at  least  some  occupation  for  his  mind.  The 
study  of  this  precious  volume  now  became 
his  daily  employment.  After  reading  the 
whole  Bible  attentively  through,  he  resolved 
to  commit  a  large  portion  of  it  to  memory, 
iind,  during  his  imprisonment,  he  learned 
the  whole  of  the  New  Testament,  besides 
the  Psalms,  and  other  parts  of  the  Old.  As 
we  have  intimated,  Ferrand  undertook  this 
merely  to  give  employment  to  his  mind,  but 
the  result  was  far  greater  than  he  had  ex- 
pected. Can  any  one  commit  to  memory, 
and  study  over,  the  recorded  words  of  Jesus, 


320  w BECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

and  yet  fail  to  find  them  melt  his  heart  and 
penetrate  his  soul  ?  Often,  as  Ferrand  re- 
peated some  precept,  his  conscience  told  him 
that  he  had  willfully  transgressed  it,  and  he 
felt  that  had  he  taken  the  Bible  for  his  guide, 
he  would  never  have  been  shut  up  in  a  prison 
cell,  as  the  leader  of  a  band  of  wicked  and 
lawless  men.  He  who  had  always  before 
been  ashamed  to  own,  even  before  God,  that 
he  was  a  great  sinner,  now  bowed  his  head 
in  shame  and  self  reproach  at  the  thought  of 
his  own  folly  in  cherishing  such  a  fatal  pride 
of  heart.  Yet,  deeply  convinced  as  he  was. 
of  his  life-long  error, — he  did  not  despair  ; 
for  those  who  study  the  Bible  as  attentively 
as  Ferrand  did,  cannot  fail  to  learn  the  true 
remedy  for  sin.  lie  acknowledged  his  utter 
help!  -.ud  threw  himself  entirely  up- 

on the  merits  of  Christ.  He  knelt  upon  the 
stone  floor  of  his  cell  in  daily  prayer,  and 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  321 

enjoyed  long  and  sweet  seasons  of  commun- 
ion with  the  Saviour.  He  fancied  that  the 
spirits  of  his  sainted  wife  and  mother  were 
bending  over  him  with  approval  and  joy, 
and  he  now  felt  sure  that  death,  even  should 
it  come  to  him  in  a  prison,  would  restore 
their  society  to  him  forever. 

While  repeating  some  favorite  passages 
from  the  Bible,  Ferrand  would  walk  up  and 
down  the  room,  for  exercise,  which  did  much 
to  preserve  his  bodily  health.  His  Bible 
\\-jis  the  talisman  that  enabled  him  to  pass 
through  his  imprisonment  without  losing 
life  or  reason,  and  with  a  resignation  which 
no  human  philosophy  could  possibly  have 
supplied. 

Marianna  was  delighted,  but  not  surprised, 
by  hearing  of  Ferrand's  conversion,  for,  she 
had  always  felt  in  her  heart  that  so  many 
prayers  of  true  faith  could  not  be  lost  upon 


322  W&ECKEK'S  GKAND-CIIILD. 

the  ear  of  Infinite  Love  and  Mercy.  Her 
face  was  radiant,  while,  as  hostess,  she  re- 
ceived the  successive  parties  of  wreckers 
who  came  to  offer  their  congratulation.-  to 
Lieutenant  Ferrand,  within  the  once  shun- 
ned and  forbidden  precints  of  Yon  Uklen's 
island  ! 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  the  Lieuten- 
ant went  with  his  little  girl,  and  Marianna, 
and  her  grandfather,  to  attend  the  religious; 
services  upon  the  main  land.  As  they  were 
coming  to  Florida,  Hugh  had  told  him  of 
those  wonderful  changes  which  had  taken 
place  among  the  wreckers,  yet,  as  he  walked 
through  the  village,  he  looked  around  with 
continued  astonishment,  When  he  thought 
of  the  wrecker  settlement  as  he  had  List  seen 
it, — it  seemed  as  though  this  truly  Sabbath- 
like  stillness,  and  all  these  neatly  dressed 
families-  p  >ing  to  the  house  of  worship, — must. 


GRAND-CHILD.  323 

he   features  of  some  strange   and  pleasant 
dream. 

"After  all,"  said  Ferrand  to  Marianna, 
with  a  smile  that  was  full  of  feeling,  "  you 
were  to  be  the  great  reformer  !" 

"No, — no," — said  Marianna,  hastily,  "iix 
was  not  I ; — it  was  the  religion  of  Jesus  !" 

Hugh  preached  again,  that  morning,  and 
we  need  scarcely  say  that  to  see  Hugh  in  the 
sacred  desk,  and  to  hear  him  deliver  an  ex- 
cellent discourse,  was  another  subject  of 
grateful  meditation  for  Lieutenant  Ferrand. 
That  afternoon,  Ferrand  was  present  at  the 
session  of  the  Sunday-school,  and  as  he  gazed 
upon  those  who  were  there  assembled,  he 
saw  many  whose  faces  had  been  familiar  to 
him  two  years  before,  but  who  had  now  un- 
dergone a  wondrous  transformation.  Among 
these  was  the  girl  who  had  been  called  by 
the  title  of  "  Spunkey  Poll,''  and  who,  until 


324:  WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD. 

Mrs.  Ferrand  bribed  her  by  the  gift  of  a 
much  handsomer  article  of  the  same  kind. 
had  been  so  unwilling  to  give  up  the  gold 
chain  taken  from  the  drowned  body  of  Mr&. 
Stillingwell's  son.  Polly  was  in  the  class 
which  Marianna  taught,  arid  she  was  most 
fondly  attached  to  her  young  teacher.  There 
was  not  a  girl  in  the  whole  school  of  neater 
personal  appearance,  or  more  modest  and 
quiet  in  her  behaviour.  She  now  utterly 
disclaimed  her  old  nickname,  and  gave  good 
evidence  of  being  deeply  impressed  upon 
the  subject  of  religion,  so  that  Marianna 
hoped  soon  to  see  her  stand  forth  as  a  pro- 
professed  disciple  of  the  Saviour. 

Yon  Ulden  sat  near  little  Bessie,  and  di- 
rectly by  the  side  of  her  father, — his  hands 
resting  upon  the  top  of  his  staff,  and  his 
hoary  head  bent  in  reverent  attention,  as, 
after  a  long  life  of  sin  and  profanity,  he,  at 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  325 

last,  received  the  truths  of  the  Gospel  with 
the  meekness  of  a  little  child.  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  wore  an  expression  so  full  of  be- 
nignity and  happiness  that,  even  to  those  who 
had  always  looked  upon  him  with  admiring 
eyes,  his  countenance  now  seemed  almost 
transligured.  And  what  a  cheering  scene 
was  this  to  Marianna  !  But  we  will  not  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  perfect  joy  that  filled 
her  heart.  Let  those  who  would  understand 
it,  go  and  taste  for  themselves  the  delight  ol 
being  God's  instruments  in  bringing  immor- 
tal souls  from  death  unto  life  ! 

After  the  close  of  the  regular  exercises, 
Ferrand  rose  and  addressed  the  children  in 
some  affectionate  and  encouraging  remarks, 
which  were  listened  to  with  intense  interest. 
At  the  evening  prayer-meeting,  he,  for  the 
first  time,  prayed  aloud  in  public,  and  then, 
in  a  modest  and  touching  manner,  related  his 

28 


326  WRKCKKK'S  GRAXI.M  HILD. 

religious  experience,  while  a  prisoner  in 
Brazil. 

About  two  weeks  afterwards,  Yon  Ulden 
was  attacked  by  an  illness  which,  though 
slight  at  first,  soon  proved  too  severe  for  so 
aged  and  feeble  a  frame.  It  was  an  earlv 
afternoon  in  early  summer,  when  Marian na. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Giles,  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  ami 
Hugh,  assembled  around  the  dying  bed  of 
Von  Ulden.  The  sunbeams,  stealing  through 
the  flowering  vines  that  overhung  an  open 
window,  scattered  spots  of  brightness  ovei 
the  snowy  counterpane  and  pillows,  and  the 
no  less  snowy  hair  and  beard  of  the  now 
departing  wrecker. 

"  If  it  had  not  been  for  Divine  grace," 
said  he  to  Marianna,  "  this  hour  would  have 
separated  you  and  me  forever ; — but,  we 
know  that  it  is  not  for  long. — Young  man." 
he  added,  addressing  Hugh.  "  when  you 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  327 

preach,  you  must  often  tell  the  people  that 
the  blood  of  Christ  saved  even  old  Von  VI- 
den. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  the  old  man  ad- 
ded, "  Lieutenant  Ferrand,  I  should  like  to 
hear  you  pray/' 

All  knelt  down,  while  Ferrand,  though, 
at  first,  his  voice  trembled,  from  a  feeling  of 
deep  solemnity  of  this  scene,  prayed  aloud, 
with  the  inspired  earnestness  of  a  glowing 
Christian  faith,  and  Christian  love.  When 
they  arose,  Yon  Ulden's  eyes  were  tranquilly 
closed,  and  his  hands  lay,  lightly  folded  be- 
fore him.  He  had  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus. 

All  the  people  in  the  wrecker  settlement 
attended  as  mourners  the  funeral  of  ••  the 
old  Commodore,"  whom  they  had  <>i un- 
treated with  unfeeling  contempt,  and  who 
had  repaid  them  with  savage  hatred,  bH'mv 
the  Holy  Spirit  had  performed  the  grwitci-t 


'->2^  WRECKERS    URAND-CHILD. 

of  all  miracles, — that  of  creating  anew  his 
heart.  Every  one  looked  with  an  increased 
respect  and  tenderness  upon  the  now 
orphaned  Marianna,  yet  they  felt  that  she 
was  not,  and  never  would  be  left  really 
alone. 

Soon  after  Yon  Uldeirs  death,  Lieutenant 
Ferrand  was  restored  to  that  position  in  the 
"Navy  from  which  he  had  been  temporarily 
suspended  ; — but  whether  on  the  ocean  or 
the  land,  his  Christian  graces  always  shone 
so  brightly  as  to  make  him  a  "  living  epistle, 
known  and  read  of  all  men." 

Marianna  had  trained  and  guarded  Bessie 
with  such  zealous  care,  during  her  father's 
imprisonment,  that  Lieutenant  Ferrand  re- 
solved still  to  leave  his  child  under  the  same 
charge,  and  he  provided  every  facility  for 
Bessie's  receiving  a  first-class  education,  with- 


WRECKER'S  GRAND-CHILD.  329 

out  being  removed  from  the  faithful  and  lov- 
ing eyes  of  Marianna. 

Hugh  Ross  left  to  finish  his  theological 
studies,  but  he  bore  with  him  an  earnest  call 
from  the  people  of  his  native  village,  that 
a  minister  might  come  to  dispense  to  them 
regularly  the  word  of  life,  from  the  desk  of 
their  beloved  Sunday-school  room.  Their 
wish  was  granted.  A  prosperous  church  now 
gathers  in  its  still  increasing  throng  ()f 
worshippers,  from  that  region  where  all 
was  ignorance,  lawlessness,  and  spiritual 
darkness,  until  the  first  Sabbath-school  was 
there  commenced  by  the  wrecker's  grand- 
child. 

We  have  seen  that  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  Marianna,  great  changes  we  in- 
wrought in  the  community  where  she 
lived.  Yet,  she  had  not  displayed  any  very 
extraordinary  gifts  of  intellect.  Her  power 
28* 


330         WEECKEB'S  UJIAND-CHILD. 

lav  in  an  unwavering  faith  in  God,  an  ardent 
love  for  the  souls  of  others,  and  in  that  en- 
ergy and  perseverance  which  sincere  faith  and 
love  naturally  inspire.  She  had  not  aimed 
to  do  any  great  or  marvellous  thing.  All 
that  she  did  was  quietly,  earnestly,  and 
thoroughly,  to  improve  every  opportunity  of 
honoring  Jesus,  and  of  turning  the  attention 
of  others,  not  to  herself,  but  to  Hi  in  who  is 
"  able  to  save  even  to  the  uttermost."' 


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